Labyrinth: Teen Pregnancy
by aimdiscord
Summary: Sarah returns to her life, with one more 'gift' from the Labyrinth than she anticipated. Some non-con implied, teenage drama, nothing explicit.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: I'm occasionally Pro-life, usually Pro-Choice, and for the purposes of this story, Sarah _must_ keep her child. Regardless of your beliefs, please do not base any major life decisions on a work of fiction – do what is right for yourself and your family! Talk things over with your loved ones! Okay, now we have this discussion out of the way, on with the story.

Disclaimer: Didn't invent the Labyrinth – if I had it might have not included David Bowie. (And we all know that would have been a mistake...)

**Prologue**

How was it possible that her parents never heard the noise? The party had continued until very late (or early, whichever word seemed preferable). There had been dancing and singing, stomping, bouncing on the bed, and general rowdiness until almost 1AM. Yet through it all, Sarah never heard a complaint from her parents. Perhaps the bedroom had been magically sound-proofed. That might be it.

And who would have guessed that inhabitants of the Labyrinth would like Scrabble, so very much? In the end, Scrabble was even more popular than Charades or bad-Karaoke-singing. They hadn't had many activities from which to choose, but the evening was a complete success. Just like her trip through the Labyrinth. A complete and total victory, and she still had a wonderful feeling about it, after everything was said and done.

As she tucked herself into bed, wiggling her toes underneath the sheet, she sighed happily. Tomorrow, she wondered, how could tomorrow compete with today? Eh... today was already tomorrow, technically, because of the lateness of the hour... At any rate, it was hard to imagine living a normal life after her trip through a giant maze, full of magical creatures.

It was a small comfort, knowing that she could call on her new friends at any time. But mixed in with the triumphant glow of happiness, after winning her way through the Labyrinth, there was a tiny seed of nostalgia. Already. And it had only been a few hours since the end of her trip.

With all the lights off, Sarah smiled at the glow of moonlight that tracked across her ceiling. This weekend, she would tell Toby a revised version of the story of the Labyrinth. He would hear all the wonderful parts, not about her misguided behavior in wishing him away.

_Well_, she thought as she drifted off to sleep, _At least I got Toby back – turns out that I love babies, after all! How could I have wished one away?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Labyrinth – Lessons Learned **

**Chapter 1: Unknown**

_A light breath of air touched her cheeks, as she moved through the room. Everything seemed so beautiful, yet disconnected. Strange faces swirled around her. White drapery, thin like gauze, surrounded them in turn. The ballroom was full of everything she loved – ribbons, beads, old-fashioned chandeliers with candlesticks – but the details were wrong. The beads and ribbons were pearlescent or white, washed of all color. And the candlesticks looked like they had been burning for ages. How long had these candles been lit?_

_A man in a three-cornered hat with feathers reached out and touched her shoulder, stopping her progress through the room. It was the first actual contact she had felt, since entering this place. The man offered to show her a box full of treasure. And Sarah couldn't help but look, although in her heart she believed it would be empty – a trick to delay her search. _

_But the box wasn't empty. As the man lifted the corner of the lid, an underdeveloped bird-like thing emerged. What was it? A baby ostrich? Chicken? Owl? What? The tiny animal began to screech, while the people around her laughed. _

_Everyone looked strange, as if their cruel nature had been exposed on their faces, unexpectedly. The people around her had horns, beaks, or claws. There was only one normal looking person in the room. Sometimes, from a distance, she could see him. That man was the only human in the place – she had to reach him! _

_And before she knew it, he was standing right in front of her. She could taste peach juice on her tongue, sweet and acidic, and she finally listened to the music that she heard. Somehow, he was the one singing that song, even though the sound came from the air around them. The music was beautiful. He was beautiful, too. _

_For some reason, she felt guilty about that. She wasn't supposed to be attracted to him. Why not, though? He was an older man. That must be why. _

_She almost laughed, thinking about it. Her parents always warned her about silly things like that, even though they agreed that a man's personality mattered more than his age. And obviously, this man's nature was fine. The words he sang seemed to resonate in her heart. _

_The taste of peaches on her tongue grew more sweet and delightful. It had always been one of her favorite fruits – because of fuzz on the outside of the peach, more than anything else. The man's hair looked slightly fluffy and fuzzy too... She reached out to run a hand through his multi-colored locks, but he gripped her hands tightly, so she didn't have the chance. _

_Later, she thought. Later, she would try again. What time was it now, anyway?_

With a gasp, Sarah woke in her room. Sitting up, she placed one hand over her heart. That dream had been . . . too realistic. Both in the Labyrinth and now, a crystal ballroom had been very effective at capturing her attention. However, she didn't recall the experience too well.

The whole time she had been in that strange dream-within-a-dream, she had been searching for something. Retrospectively, she knew that she had been looking for Toby. When the clock struck twelve, it had alerted her to the deception, and she had broken free of that horrible place.

Remembering what happened inside the crystal ball was another matter, entirely. Even the space had seemed distorted and strange, as if they were looking through a curved piece of glass. She remembered the song, and she remembered breaking free, but much of the memory was murky, at best.

How ironic, that directly after a marvelous party in her room, she would dream of the one person who wasn't invited – the Goblin King.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The time she spent in the Labyrinth did not leave her untouched. But Sarah was happy with the changes that she noticed, at first.

She felt much more mature, now. She was definitely growing up. Life wasn't always fair, people shouldn't take things for granted, and that was okay. It was a sign of maturity to accept this. The little things in life didn't matter. Thus, she just had to turn all that which annoyed her into a 'little' item, instead of holding onto a big grudge.

For a few days, she contemplated the changes that she wished to make in her life. The inside of her heart had changed – so, the outside should match. Perhaps her stepmother Karen was correct. She should dress, speak, and act in a more adult fashion.

Deciding to try for a more 'metropolitan' look, she began to pack away her old books and costumes. Her mother Linda was a socialite, with a beautiful yet urban kind of appearance. Sarah could be like that, too. It wasn't conforming to the way her stepmother expected her to be; it was a simple step toward adulthood that still showed her independence.

Karen didn't seem to mind. Especially when Sarah mentioned that she would be willing to give away some of her toys to Toby. Growing excited by the idea, the older woman set up some shelving in the master bedroom, beside Toby's crib. Then, she even helped with the transfer.

All in all, it was a pleasant experience, instead of a traumatic one. As long as Sarah initiated the gift, then it didn't feel like toys were being 'stolen' from her by Karen. (Yes, she knew Toby could never reach a shelf as high as the one on which she stored her teddy bear Lancelot. Karen had been the one to take the bear down and hand it over to the baby.)

"You're sure you don't want to keep that one?" Karen inquired.

The dark-haired girl was gently patting Lancelot, her favorite bear, in the crib beside her little brother. She had given the toy to him, upon returning from the Labyrinth, but at that moment it had been a spontaneous, symbolic gesture – not reality. Now, she meant it.

Everyone seemed to know it was Sarah's favorite, too. Including Toby. The little tot wouldn't have become so attached to it, if Sarah hadn't tried to keep Lancelot away from him so many times.

"Yes, it's fine," replied Sarah, wistfully. She touched the red bow around her favorite bear's neck. Toby took this as a sign to begin chewing on the bow. Sarah laughed.

Clapping her hands together, as if she had just come to a momentous decision, Karen said, "As a reward, for packing up your baby-books and your costumes, we should go shopping together! I'll buy whatever you want."

It was odd to designate her books – full of words, lacking in pictures – as baby-books but Sarah chose to let it slide. At least the stepmother hadn't referred to her usual attire as 'silly' or 'childish' this time, like she often did. Probably that was because she had just offered to replace the clothing and foot the bill. Which was nice of her, technically speaking.

If they went shopping together, then she'd most likely end up with clothing that she didn't like, because it would be embarrassing to dress in whatever she wanted, in front of an adult audience. But still, it was like bonding, Sarah thought. An olive branch being extended by an eager stepmother. So, she accepted the offer.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Due to Toby's companionship, they couldn't take long at the mall. Babies needed naps – often! But he certainly attracted a huge amount of attention while they walked through the isles.

In a stroller near his mother, Toby seemed much more mellow than inside the Labyrinth. Sarah wondered if it had been the goblins or their leader who made him the most uncomfortable. Either way, he was much happier, today. Leaning forward onto the bar which lay over his lap in the stroller, Toby used the bar to support his weight. Then, he started tugging on the nearest clothing which he could reach. Naturally, this meant he was pulling on dresses, instead of clothing like pants or shirts – they hung the farthest down to his level. Karen ignored it, while Sarah giggled.

Currently, they were in a popular mid-range clothing store that carried outfits for both boys and girls. It was definitely suited for teenagers – not a fancy-looking suit in sight. Karen seemed surprised by the styles she saw, as if she couldn't believe that children dressed in such a fashion, these days. She was nice enough not to comment, though.

"Why not pick out a dress?" Karen finally suggested. Sarah had been looking at t-shirts, but only those which sported outrageous slogans. Finally, it became too much for the stepmother to bear.

A short sleeved shirt was much more useful, day by day. But she wouldn't say no, if her stepmother wanted to buy a more expensive, nice dress. Furthermore, Toby had been tugging at the dresses on a nearby rack for a few minute, now. It was terribly distracting.

Sarah joined them by the wall, where several dresses hung in neat rows. "What do you think, Toby?" the older sister asked, "Should I buy that one?" Hearing her voice, the little boy turned his head and he stopped tugging on the cloth in his fist.

Exasperated, his mother bent down to pull the fabric out of his grip. "No, Toby," she reprimanded him without any real toughness in her tone. "We don't eat that."

He clapped his hands together, pleased to have gotten a response. Once more, Sarah laughed. But she decided not to encourage the behavior by dangling any _more_ brightly colored fabric in front of a baby. Karen looked pleased, even though Toby looked disappointed.

"After this, do we have time to eat ice cream?" Sarah inquired carefully. Toby couldn't always stay out as long as she expected.

Also, her stepmother might not allow him to watch if they ate food. That was one thing Sarah never understood – why restrict the baby from _seeing_ ice-cream and candy? He'd be eating it soon enough, regardless. Witnessing the yummy, scrumptious, creamy goodness as it entered Sarah's mouth, this alone would not determine whether the boy started to eat junk food early. Besides, she liked ice cream. She wouldn't give him any, without permission.

"I don't know . . ." the stepmother began, considering their schedule. She didn't seem opposed to the idea, but only Toby really determined how long their shopping trip might be.

While Karen assessed whether Toby would become mentally distraught, by viewing his older sister eating ice cream, Sarah continued her way through the stack of dresses on the wall. They were out of order, due to the popularity of the store; clothing was always being moved around by customers. Nothing really caught her eye, until she reached the end of the row.

Then, she saw it. A light, silvery gown, with thin straps over each shoulder. The fabric was form-fitting with a loose drop below the waist, and the dress sparkled a bit when it moved in the light. All in all, it was . . . lovely. Exactly the sort of gown that she had always admired, only more adult-looking instead of theatrical, like the costume that she used to play in the park.

Except this time, she couldn't help but remember the ballroom gown that she had worn in the Labyrinth. Whether that dream had been real or not, she had been wearing a dress like a fairy-tale princess. It had been flamboyant, yes, but also, it had been what she imagined a beautiful heroine should wear. Suddenly, silver and white no longer seemed like such enchanting colors.

Noticing how her stepdaughter paused, staring at one dress in particular, Karen chimed in with a comment. "Do you like that one? Try it on!" the older woman urged her. "It might make a great prom dress."

Sarah flinched and her hand released the fabric. Thinking about a dance, while looking at this dress, it was precisely what she did not want to do, right now. Even though the style and length were different, it still reminded her of the time she spent with the Goblin King.

"No," she muttered, "But thank you for the offer." Belated thanks was better than none.

"Oh, come now," Karen continued, never sensing how the subject made her stepdaughter uneasy. "Just in case you manage to find the 'right boy' – you never know!"

Annoyed, Sarah fought to keep from rolling her eyes. It was so typical of this woman to push the issue, without paying attention to other people's wishes. She was trying to be nice and she would pay for the dress, but it couldn't hurt her to let the subject drop. Not everything was about boys and gowns and . . .

Knowing that she would need to offer an explanation why she didn't want the very item in which she expressed interest, Sarah shook her head. "White is not my color."

It wasn't a good explanation, but it would have to suffice. The real reason that she didn't want to wear the dress – it would make her sound crazy. "Ice cream?" she reminded her stepmother.

"Oh," Karen answered, sounding a bit confused. "Um . . . I don't think . . ."

"Please?" begged Sarah, using her best puppy-dog expression. Ice-cream was worth it. Toby would just have to deal with watching another person eat, without getting to participate himself.

"All right, all right," the blonde haired woman finally caved in. "I like Dippin' Dots, too."

With a smile, Sarah gathered up her purchases, and they moved to the checkout line. In the end, this trip was a good idea – it felt like they were beginning to be friends. And this made Sarah happy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Labyrinth – Lessons Learned **

**Chapter 2: Denial**

_Looking straight ahead, the floor seemed to be flat, yet she knew that she had gone up a staircase at one point. Everything seemed to be on a different level from where she was currently standing. When she looked to the side, she saw random pillars that held up nothing at all. It was unsettling. _

_She was searching for something. No, someone. She knew that much. With a shudder, she moved closer to the blond man beside her. He was the only person here that resembled her in the slightest way. Perhaps he was the one for whom she had been searching? She didn't quite believe that, but it seemed possible. _

_Despite the fact that he was singing, somehow the man also managed to speak in her ear. Sarah stared at him, in amazement. It was like he had two voices – one for speaking, one for singing. _

_Gathering her close, his voice was little more than a whisper. ". . . very beautiful." _

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Uh-oh," Denise told her. "You don't look so well, today."

Sarah nodded her head in agreement. She didn't feel too healthy, either. Mostly because she had spent the night, tossing and turning. It was partly because of That Dream (yes, in capital letters)! But also, it was because she felt uncomfortable laying on her stomach. And she always slept on her stomach. Breaking the habit, all of a sudden, it was impossible.

Thus, she had been unable to return to sleep, even after she awoke. It took her a while to calm down, and she hadn't been able to fall asleep again. With a sigh, the brunette closed her locker door and faced her friend.

She loved her best friend, she really did, but . . . Denise had the body of a pear and the fashion-sense of a banana, so to speak. As usual, she was wearing clothing which looked too tight. Still, Sarah always felt comfortable talking to her. And who was she to judge fashion-sense, after the years that she spent in theatrical costumes?

"I feel bloated," she told her friend.

Denise only laughed. "You're not fat!"

"No, I mean it," said Sarah, "Literally. Bloated."

"Yuck," the other girl commented. Still, the subject seemed more humorous to her, than anything else. "Probably something you ate, making you feel like this."

"Yeah," Sarah agreed, "Probably."

And it probably was just something that she ate. For instance, last night, she had eaten a lot. Karen had prepared chicken pot pie. Everyone had seconds; maybe it was salty, causing her to retain water.

That was what it felt like. Her mid-section seemed to have a bit more padding than usual, like she was about to have her period. She couldn't quite remember when the last one was, but it must have been a few weeks ago. Afterward, she always changed out the trash in the bathroom, and the can was full, so it had been a while.

Funny, how she had made a mental note of that. And it was strange to be so uncomfortable, even if her monthly cycle was imminent. Right now, she didn't enjoy the feeling of _clothing_ pressing on her stomach, much less a bed mattress. That was unusual to say the least.

"English class," her friend was talking, as she started to listen, "What a bore! Everyone in the class already knows English, right?"

With a tiny snort, Sarah agreed. Somehow, that joke never got old. Putting the issue out of her mind, she followed Denise down the hall.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

More time passed, and still, no sign of her monthly cycle. It wasn't the sort of thing about which a person talked, but it was definitely something that one noticed. One week turned into two, then three. Sarah caught herself worrying about it, more and more often.

_No big deal_, she thought, over and over. _I'm physically active, so I'm just late, that's all. I've been late before._

But there were only so many times she could repeat this to herself, before her mind began asking other questions. It looked like she skipped a period entirely. Did that sort of thing just . . . happen?

There were other changes in her body, which made her question herself, again and again. She was a bit constipated. She continued to feel bloated, more fat than usual. Her chest was beginning to outgrow the bra that she wore. Even her urine smelled strange.

All of these peculiar symptoms seemed to point in the same direction. Yet the idea was impossible; she couldn't even fathom it. Before panicking for no reason, she chose to get a second opinion. And the only friend she knew at her school, with whom she trusted such a story, was Denise. Her parents didn't really approve of the girl. In the end, that was a good thing – it meant that Denise couldn't and wouldn't share information with her family.

They were sitting together after school, one afternoon, swapping homework assignments, when Sarah finally felt brave enough to speak about it.

Denise listened carefully, all the way through the story. (No, it didn't say anything about goblins or wishes. Just the weird problems that she had been noticing, recently.) When she was all done, her friend said exactly what she was _not_ wanting to hear.

"It sounds like you are pregnant," Denise announced, blithely. "You know, from the way you have listed all those things."

Sarah must have looked sick to hear it. Her friend quickly moved to comfort her. "Of course, you didn't talk about the most obvious one!"

"What?" the brunette wondered hopefully.

"Do you have morning sickness?" Denise asked. "That's the way you'll know for sure!"

"No," she shook her head.

If these things were symptomatic of something other than pregnancy, then Sarah was very interested. And it was true that in the movies and in books, women always had morning sickness. She hadn't experienced anything like that.

"Oh, well. You're okay, then," announced her friend firmly. It seemed pretty straightforward in her opinion.

Sarah wasn't so certain, but the idea did make her feel better. Perhaps she just had a case of the stomach flu? Being sick could postpone a woman's monthly cycle, too.

"Thanks." With a smile, Sarah relaxed and tried to ignore the worries that she had been allowing to build, inside of her. Denise was probably right. The other girl had a cousin who had been pregnant, so she knew what it was like. Not the large tummy part – the other symptoms that no one bothered to tell a girl.

"What are friends for?" the other girl cheerfully asked.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The next morning was bright and beautiful, sunlight streaming through her window. Sarah took her time getting dressed, until the air-conditioning system switched on. And then . . . it started.

As she snapped a necklace around her throat, the air traveling through the vents reached out and tried to kill her. No, really. She was innocently standing there, looking in the mirror, when the smell of toxic death crept through her room and choked her.

"Ugh!" Sarah complained loudly, even though she was alone, "What is that smell?"

It seemed like dirt, plus decay, plus maybe some charcoal. She sniffed curiously, then moved toward the vent register. The scent emerged from below the floorboards. Maybe an animal had died, in one of the pipes down there.

Throwing her school supplies together in her pack, she quickly hurried down the stairs. She'd have to warn her father about trouble with their air-system, before he left for work. Otherwise, he would have no time to call a repairman, during the day.

The closer she came to the kitchen, the worse the smell became. By the time Sarah entered the room, her eyes had started to water. Mr. Williams saw her and said, "Good morning, my little sunshine!"

Judging by his wide grin, it was transparent that he didn't detect bad smells or sense anything wrong at all. No, the awful scent of rotting decay was coming out of his coffee-maker. The fumes had been sucked through a return-vent, near the stairs, and funneled upward to meet Sarah in her bedroom.

She stared in disbelief.

Honestly, she had never liked the smell of coffee. But it had never made her want to vomit. It had never caused her to leave the room. It was an annoying smell, not a horrible one!

Except right now, she was going to lose a breakfast that she hadn't even consumed yet, if she had to smell that awful scent for one more second.

"Hi, Dad," Sarah murmured unhappily. "Um . . . You're drinking coffee?" Just for the record, she checked it wasn't battery acid or zombie-powder, or some such.

Puzzled by her inquiry, since this was part of his normal morning routine, her father agreed. "Best part of waking up," he quoted the Folger's commercials.

Sarah's stomach tied itself into a knot and attempted to climb out of her chest. The longer she stood in the kitchen, the worse the sensation became. "Okay. Great," she replied. "I have to go."

Then, she scurried out of the kitchen – and out of the house – as fast as she could.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

It was better at school – she didn't mind the smell of a classroom, even when half the teenagers inside didn't seem to shower often enough. Still, she noticed odors like never before in her life. She could even detect the dry erase marker that her professor used, in the first period. When he uncapped the marker, it smelled sweet and sharp.

After the first half of the day, she groaned and put her head on her arms. Lunchtime would be hopeless. She didn't even want to try to enter a place so stuffed with aromas.

Sitting down in the hallway, near her locker, Sarah thumbed through some short sketches and playbills. She carried these around every day, because they held pictures of her mother, Linda. Without any family photographs from when she was younger, the only way she could see her mother was by following the woman's career.

A half of an hour passed, before she heard another person coming through the corridor. Glancing around she hoped it would not be a teacher. If so, then she would need to explain a reason for skipping lunch. Not that she was required to eat, but still, it was better to be undisturbed. She needed time to think about what was happening to her.

Denise waved, from down the hallway. It appeared her friend was searching for her, because Sarah didn't go to the cafeteria. (But not before Denise ate lunch, since thirty minutes had already passed.) With a soft snort of laughter, Sarah waved back.

"Hey there!" the other girl smiled happily, when she arrived at the lockers. "What's going on?"

Sarah didn't reply. Her mind recalled the words this very girl had spoken, only a day earlier. Morning sickness – one of the obvious, most common signs of pregnancy. Since she didn't have it, Denise declared her to be in the clear. As if the statement had jinxed her, now she felt sick to her stomach, all day long.

"What was it like for your cousin," Sarah asked, "When she had morning sickness?"

The other teenager's eyes grew wide. "Are we talking about this again?" She seemed a tad disapproving.

"I know that 'morning sickness' doesn't happen in the morning, like the title implies," continued the brunette. "But I don't really know what it IS, or why it happens. That sort of thing."

"Oh, okay." Hearing another vaguely acceptable explanation for why her friend might ask such a question, Denise became peaceful again. "Well, nobody really knows WHY it happens, I guess. I just remember Alice, my cousin, complained a lot. She said that everything was stinky. But she was just being a pill, I think."

Sarah frowned. It hadn't been the viewpoint she was anticipating, from her friend. For some reason she expected Denise to be more sympathetic.

Seeing her negative expression, Denise clarified. "No, really! Alice would complain about smelling things that she couldn't possibly detect – like she is able to tell what the next door neighbors were eating for dinner. Besides, we couldn't do anything about it. Why should she complain, when there is nothing we can do?"

True enough, Sarah supposed. If there was nothing that they could do to fix the problem, then maybe it was pointless to talk about it. But maybe Alice had been trying to explain why she felt sick. At any rate, the story hadn't fully answered her fears or her true question.

"Did she suddenly find certain things unbearable, even though she liked the smell once?"

"Yep," Denise nodded, "Like freshly mowed grass – she always said she 'loved' that smell, and then she would gripe and moan about smelling it, when she was pregnant. What are people going to do? Stop tending to their lawns? I was like . . ."

Interrupting her friend, Sarah began to feel more concerned, "Did she find a way to avoid feeling so sick? I mean, you're right, of course. People can't stop mowing the lawn. But it seems unfortunate."

"She spent a lot of time in the bathroom," Denise said, "Even when she wasn't throwing up, she said she liked the ventilation fan."

That sounded miserable, in Sarah's opinion. It certainly didn't seem like a good solution to the problem. Er . . . Not that _she_ was pregnant. It was simply that she wanted to solve the problem she was having with her stomach, today.

While Sarah was considering the problem, her friend continued to talk. "It was so funny!" Denise was saying, "I would do stuff to check whether she could actually smell it or not – I thought she must be joking. So, I'd make fried chicken, and she'd enter the room and say it was going to make her sick, and I would say, 'But you LOVE fried chicken!' and she would get all mad! Totally unreasonable."

Sarah tried to laugh along with her friend, although technically, the tale didn't sound that funny. It sounded like Denise was being mean. On the other hand, if the other girl never believed that her cousin was honest about the nausea, perhaps she was just trying to prove a point.

"So, when did it go away?" Sarah found herself asking. It wasn't that she needed to know, it was that she was curious, from an intellectual standpoint. How long did morning sickness last, for people who actually had it?

"Hmm?" Once more, the teenager eyed Sarah suspiciously. "Why do you care so much?"

Sarah shook her head, maintaining eye contact, so that she didn't seem to be hiding anything. Because she wasn't being secretive, really! Any problems or sickness with the upper digestive track usually went away in 24 hours. Her stomach flu would disappear by tomorrow. She might be sick tonight, but by tomorrow evening, she'd be better.

"Whatever," Denise abandoned her interrogation and looked away. "Alice was sick the whole time she was pregnant. She even stayed nauseous for the first few days, with her baby. 'Course she didn't care by then. The doctors said it usually goes away in a few months, so Alice was just 'lucky' like that."

Afterward, they talked about other things. But the concept of constant nausea stayed in Sarah's mind. She couldn't help feeling sorry for her friend's cousin. What ridiculous biological design made expecting mothers constantly ill, while they were growing a little baby inside them? What possible evolutionary advantage could it serve?

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The nausea didn't go away. By the end of the week, Sarah was at her wits' end.

Toby smelled like rotten milk. Karen smelled like fake flowers. Her father smelled like cologne and coffee. It was disgusting. She thought she would rather die than breathe air in their home, any longer.

Tension and worry had been building inside her, all week long. To her best reckoning, it had been eight weeks since her last period. Even if she skipped one, she should've had another menstrual cycle by now. And she hadn't. She had missed at least two, maybe three...

Pregnancy seemed like the only conceivable cause. But how could that be? She didn't have sex. With anyone. Ever.

The only potential moment for something of that nature - it had been inside the Labyrinth. And the only reason it seemed plausible, even then, was because she didn't fully recall all of the events that happened in the crystal ballroom. The memory seemed a bit fuzzy around the edges.

According to her brain, she had heard the clock strike twelve and she had fought her way free of the crowd, escaping into the maze. According to her body, something was wrong.

Maybe there was still another explanation for these symptoms. On Monday, she would talk with the school nurse. Perhaps the nurse would have some ideas that she did not.

From down the stairs, she heard the muffled voice of her stepmother. "Sarah? Are you coming to supper?"

Crossing her arms over her chest, resentfully, Sarah called back, "No! Thank you! Not Hungry!"

It felt like she said the same thing, over and over, this week. Also, her bedroom was quite hot and stuffy, since she had closed the air vent. This helped to block some of the odors floating around in their household, but it didn't solve the real problem. She didn't want to be ill, anymore.

" . . . worried about her," Karen's voice spoke softly, at the foot of the staircase.

Her father's voice replied, but his tone was low, so Sarah couldn't make it out.

"Crash dieting is for super-models, not teenagers!" the stepmother insisted.

Laying her head on the vanity, in front of her mirror, she tried to figure out what she would say to her parents. If she was pregnant. Not that she was.


	4. Chapter 4

**Labyrinth – Lessons Learned **

**Chapter 3: Dread**

"_You are . . ." he said, voice little more than a whisper,"Very beautiful, you know." __The man seemed almost hesitant to speak the words. As if he was embarrassed. How sweet! _

_She felt giddy and light-headed. Was this because of the dance? Because of the compliment? _

_With a tiny smile, she rested her head against his jacket. Such a very nice thing for him to say. She enjoyed being beautiful. _

_His jacket was blue and it glittered in the dim lighting of the candles. The room looked blurry. It wasn't that her head was hurting, it was simply . . . spinny. Yes, that seemed like the right word. Spinny. The room was spinny, not only blurry._

"_Much better looking than the rest of . . . these . . ." Sarah implied, waving her hand at the other dancers. Then, she stopped speaking, because she didn't know what to call them. They obviously were not human. __Everyone in the room looked frightening, not to mention fascinating. (Was that a person with antlers coming out of his head?) _

_The man chuckled, taking her words as a joke, although it was more of a question, since Sarah felt confused. Really, who were all these people? Where was this place? _

_Part of her mind seemed to know the answer – she was dreaming! It was a vision that she had dreamed of before, several times. But she didn't know how to control the dream. She could only watch. _

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Monday morning, she ate two bowls of cereal. Bran flakes had never been so delicious, she thought. And her stepmother seemed pleased to see her consuming so much breakfast. Sarah didn't stop to discuss it.

Nope. She didn't have time to chat. She was a girl with a mission. Once the first class began, she would pretend to be sick, and go straight to the nurse's office. Maybe the nurse would have a professional medical opinion about her stomach flu, one which involved Not Being Pregnant. Because that still didn't seem possible.

As she walked to school, Sarah became nauseous only three times! Once at the corner of a wide street, when she smelled car exhaust. Once, while she walked by the laundromat. And once, as she passed the bakery, when she detected cookies. Apparently, the odor of bread didn't bother her, but cookies were awful.

Upon entering the nurse's office, she was greeted kindly by the older woman, whose name tag read 'Mercy' in bright blue letters. Sarah had never taken the time to visit their school health center, so she hadn't known the woman's name. Now, she felt a pang of sympathy. A nurse named Mercy – that could only invite puns from silly teenagers.

The lady didn't seem to be bad-tempered about it, though. When she saw the direction of Sarah's gaze, she just winked. "Yes. It's destiny. I was meant to be a nurse."

"Oh, I didn't mean . . ." The brunette was embarrassed to be caught staring. Especially because she was not planning to mock the poor woman's name. She had merely considered how _other_ students probably did.

"How can we help you, today?" Nurse Mercy continued, over-riding any attempts at apology.

"Um. . ." stammered Sarah. Until this instant, she hadn't considered how to phrase her question. "Well, I . . ."

Once more, the plump, homely woman took charge of the conversation. "When boys come in here, any number of things could be wrong," she announced merrily. "But when girls visit me, it is usually one of two things."

Giving the nurse a wide-eyed look of alarm, Sarah hunched her shoulders slightly. Was it so obvious? Then, she realized the lady hadn't actually said what two issues brought most girls to the office. "What two things?" she asked.

"Ah! I've been caught!" the nurse replied. "I thought perhaps _you_ would tell me."

Sarah rolled her eyes. That was a silly trick. But at least, this woman was in a good mood. Maybe it would help.

"I was wondering if you knew . . . are there any other reasons for . . . nausea and feeling fat?" Sarah began slowly, with several false starts. "Other than pregnancy, I mean?" It seemed important that she mention pregnancy was _not_ the answer she hoped to hear.

"Oh, yes," Mercy replied jovially. "Hormonal changes from ceasing to take birth control pills or changing the type, even stress – all these things can cause drastic difference in our body."

Relief poured over her like cool, refreshing rain. She had been so focused on an idea that she wasn't willing to accept, but now, she realized there were other possibilities. That was wonderful! Sarah felt better immediately.

It must have showed in the way her posture changed. The nurse laughed. "You were rather concerned, I see," she added. "Honestly, you know more than I, about what sort of activities you have been doing. If there's reason to think . . ."

"No!" Sarah protested, "No, no. I'm not. I mean, I didn't. I haven't." Even getting the words out started to fluster her.

"All right, dear," the nurse smiled, patting her on one arm. "I'm not trying to insult you. Just keep track of what has been happening, and if it continues for . . . let's say . . . longer than one week, you return to the Health Center again?"

Sarah agreed. Really, she did feel a great deal improved, merely hearing a knowledgeable person say there were other reasons to be sick the way she was. As she stood to leave, the nurse told her one last story. "You know how I learned I was pregnant?"

Sarah shook her head.

"I woke up – and I just knew!" Mercy winked again. "My doctor didn't believe me, because it hadn't been long enough, he said, for any signs to appear."

They both smiled and exchanged a few more pleasantries. Enormously relieved, Sarah went to her next class. It wasn't until she sat in the desk, when she processed what the nurse had actually said. Ceasing birth control. Changing the type of pill. Stress.

She had never used birth control pills, so she couldn't have stopped or changed them. And she hadn't been particularly stressed. Not before all these symptoms showed up, at least.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Another week passed. Sarah's health didn't improve. She could not eat properly, and she skipped meal after meal with her family. Finally, last night, Karen had gone on the war-path. The stepmother had insisted that she remain at the table, even if she didn't eat. Then, to be kind, the woman had offered Sarah every type of food on the table, repeatedly. When Sarah politely demurred, Karen had offered to cook anything – anything else! – that Sarah might desire.

It had been mortifying to see the insulted, distressed look on her stepmother's face, because she kept turning down these generous offers. Thus, Sarah had surrendered to fate – she ate a heaping portion of all the foods that they had for dinner. It comforted Karen a lot. And it made Sarah spend the next few hours in the bathroom. Luckily, no one else noticed, since she used the bathroom in the hallway, while her parents had their own bathroom in the master suite.

Despite the fact that she didn't want to believe it, she was tempted to suspect she was. . . pregnant. All signs pointed in that direction. Sure, there could have been one or two other causes, but then, she wouldn't have remained sick for such a long time. Even the nurse had implied symptoms should disappear after one week!

Denial turned to dread. What would she do? If she was really pregnant, then she would have to tell her parents. They were going to notice, eventually. It wasn't something that one could hide forever. Maybe she could wear baggy dresses and eat too much food and gain lots of weight, and then, she could tell people that she became fat from over-eating? Hmm. No. Maybe she could run away from home? That idea had potential . . . but it wouldn't solve the real problem.

What would happen when her father, her family learned the truth? She didn't even know. In fact, she couldn't tell them the _whole_ truth, because they wouldn't believe it.

Perhaps the tale would sound better if she framed the Goblin King as a bad-guy. He wasn't very nice. A trustworthy, decent person wouldn't do this sort of thing to a young girl. It was like date-rape. Even if she seemed to consent, that peach had been drugged! She clearly hadn't been herself. So, he was an evil person who had ruined her life, and it would be fine to tell her parents that he had raped her. Right?

Except that would encourage them to call the police. There would be an investigation, and everyone might wonder how a strange man entered their home. She had been babysitting Toby, for heaven's sake! It wouldn't help to imply that she had been at a party, when her parents knew that wasn't true.

With a moan, Sarah collapsed back on the bed. Saturday afternoon, and she had been hiding in her room, all morning. It wasn't reasonable to pretend to 'sleep in' anymore; she needed to go downstairs.

As if the thought had summoned one of her parents, she heard a knock on the door. Her father's voice came through the wood, and she could hear concern in his tone. "Sarah, honey?" he said, "Are you awake?"

She went to the door and opened it, without thinking how the room might look to an outsider. The shades were drawn and she hadn't turned on any lights. She hadn't even gotten dressed for the day. The whole place reeked of teenage-angst or depression.

Mr. Williams appeared surprised. "Oh," he resumed, after glancing through the door, "Hello there! We planned to go to the library, with Toby. Do you want to come?"

Belatedly, Sarah realized how gloomy she must look, sitting alone in the dark. But it wasn't that she was depressed. Honestly, if she had to name one emotion that she felt, it was anger.

How DARE that bastard do this to her? Stealing babies was one thing. _Making_ them was an entirely different matter.

She was a teenager. In her world, an older man having sex with a teenager was illegal and immoral and improper and . . . just plain wrong! So, yes. She was mad.

And there was pretty much nothing that she could do about it. Convince Ludo and Hoggle to undertake a suicide march to assassinate their ruler? Not feasible.

Meanwhile, her father was waiting on a reply. "That would be fun," Sarah answered finally. "But I have to . . . finish my homework. And then, I was going to act out a scene in the park."

He seemed disappointed, although not disbelieving. It was great to have an old, stand-by excuse that people readily accepted. She had been play-acting scenes in the local park, for a long time.

"Well, okay." Before he left, her father attempted to cheer her up. "Uh . . . why don't you pick out what we have for dinner, tonight?"

Sarah smiled thinly. It was exactly the wrong way to make her happy, but it made sense. Both her father and stepmother worried that she wasn't eating enough lately.

"Sure, Dad," the brunette finished. "Let me think about it."

Deep down, she wanted to tell everyone to eat cereal for dinner. That would be great. Instead, she'd pick something plain and simple, like chicken and rice. That wouldn't seem too weird.

_For that matter_, Sarah wondered, _how long CAN a person live on nothing but cereal? It is fortified with vitamins and minerals. And bran flakes have fiber and protein. Maybe I can survive on nothing but Raisin Bran? _

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Fluorescent lights illuminated her current dilemma in stark, white colors. Sarah was standing in the local pharmacy, staring at the shelves full of pregnancy tests. There were no less than ten types, and they were all more expensive than Sarah thought they should be.

She only had ten dollars available. The average price for a box, with two sticks inside it, was twenty dollars. Sarah imagined trying to bargain at the cash register: _'I only want one test strip, may I open the box and pay half-price?'_ Sadly, this wouldn't work.

Also, the pregnancy tests were on the isle named Family Planning – which wasn't the case, to her way of thinking. Even more ridiculous: condoms cost more than one dollar _each_! It was a scrap of latex. It shouldn't require fifteen or twenty dollars to purchase a box of condoms, with all the fuss that adults made about safe-sex and educating teenagers about using these things. Or maybe that was a secret way that society planned to bring down the birth-rate.

She groaned. This was so stupid. She would have to borrow money from her father or stepmother, merely to use a test-strip that she didn't want. Hopefully, the test showed a negative result, after she had already told her parents why she needed the money.

Discouraged, she trudged back toward their house.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

By the time she returned home, the rest of the family was back from the library. Karen was putting away dishes in the kitchen, where Toby was playing on the floor. Of course, when Sarah entered the room, he turned all his attention to her. "Wah!" the boy cried out.

It could mean nothing at all. But Sarah chose to interpret this as her name. Toby crawled her direction, and she smiled.

He had been trying to walk for months, yet he hadn't managed to take steps on his own. Still, he could get into lots of trouble crawling around and pulling himself to a stand on top of whatever he could reach.

For an instant, she imagined Toby as a baby, alongside another child in the house. A little brother or sister. Children were cute, yes, but the mere concept sent a chill down her spine. Sarah had been there, while her little brother was an infant. So, she knew how difficult, how painfully demanding it would be to raise two young kids at the same time.

Of course, by the time she had a baby, Toby would be older. It might not . . .

Closing her eyes, Sarah tried to stop thinking. She didn't like the way her thoughts were straying onto impossible subjects. After all, nothing had been confirmed yet. There was nothing quite as alarming, frightening, and awe-inspiring, as the idea that she might be pregnant. Even if it was true, she still hadn't decided what to do about it.

"Can you put away the silverware?" her stepmother asked, from where she stood by the countertop.

"Sure thing," she replied. No point in avoiding her family, while they weren't eating or doing anything that made her feel sick. Not that she could avoid family dinner-time much longer, at any rate. She was running out of plausible excuses.

Toby seemed distraught when his latest playmate (Sarah's shoes) walked away from him. He sat on the floor and stared at her footwear, as if it betrayed him. The idea flashed through her mind, once more. Toby had blond hair; what would her child look like?

She shuddered, banishing the thought. Hopefully, by keeping her hands busy, she could avoid such stupid speculation! Grabbing the silverware tray, she sorted forks and spoons into their drawer as fast as possible.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **Lylabeth is quite right. Jareth is a creep in this story. He drugged a peach and fed it to a young girl. Basically date rape. Later on, I think I suggest it was not totally his fault, as Sarah controls the direction of the dream, but he's still a villain in the story, which is why I didn't publish this one for so very long. About 6 years of not publishing it, I think.

**Labyrinth – Lessons Learned**

**Chapter 4: Reality Ensues**

_The blond man looked very serious. There was a slight furrow in his brow, and Sarah pitied him. Everyone else at this party was having so much fun! What was there to worry about? _

_He was observing her closely, and this made her blush, again. She felt light-headed (still? again?) but she was certain that everything would be fine. Snuggling close to the man's chest, she tried to use his body to block out the surrounding faces. Finally, his head was blocking her view of all others. She smiled. It was a comfortable position._

_"Are you ... quite all right?" the man asked, sounding unsure. _

_Sarah, on the other hand, was completely sure that everything was going to work out fine. "Oh, yes. It's quite lovely here" she murmured._

_"Hmm. I think that I should __like, very much, to kiss you" he hummed softly, mouthing the words like they were precious. Startled, Sarah lifted her chin, looking upward. His lips were only a breath away from her face. _

_Barely able to hear him in the noise of the room, she tried to pay attention. But she was confused, so she didn't reply. When he saw that she didn't struggle away from him, the tall man drew her near. "Let me?" _

"_What?" she murmured, puzzled by the question. She couldn't remember what he had asked the first time. _

"_Say yes," he prompted her. _

"_Yes?" she said, agreeably, although to what she did not quite recall. _

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Morning sickness was not given enough credit. Somehow, throwing up and feeling endlessly queasy had a reputation as a romantic rite of passage. It was not. It was awful. Sarah felt like she had the flu. Her head was stuffy. She couldn't even contemplate food _in her imagination_ without feeling sick.

On Sunday, her father had grilled steak for the whole family. Even Toby had gotten some, pulverized in the blender. And everyone had enjoyed it, except for Sarah. It smelled acceptable, and she had been excited by the idea of eating a sirloin steak, until the fork was inches from her mouth. Then, suddenly, a delicious, succulent bite of meat became foul and horrible, and her stomach rebelled. Pretending that the steak looked fine, but she just didn't feel like it that evening, she tried to ignore the look of failure on her father's face when she put down her fork.

After dinner, her father called to her from the sofa in the living room. "Sarah?" said Mr. Williams quietly. "Is there anything that you want to talk about?"

She didn't really, but she knew she should. With a sigh, she sank down on to the seat beside her father. Afterward, of course, she didn't know where to begin.

"You've been feeling sick lately – mother and I are beginning to worry."

Bristling at his poor word choice, Sarah wondered if she should remind him that Karen was NOT her mother. She decided not to say anything explicit. She would hint at it, through the questions that she asked. Because she did have some questions.

Her _real_ mother, Linda, always said that having a baby ruined her career. Strangely enough, the woman still had an acting career, so she couldn't have been correct. Still, it was clear that Linda hadn't really anticipated becoming a mother. Perhaps her father had not either.

Sarah felt hurt by the way her mother spoke about her, sometimes, but she had accepted it as truth. Having a baby, at a young age, it would ruin a potential career! Even her father agreed on that score.

"What was it like, having a baby?" she finally asked her father, in an unsure tone. Upon seeing her father's terrified expression, she reassured him, "I'm talking about Mom! What was it like being such a young parent?"

Her real parents had split up for a number of reasons, one of which was their age. When Linda was pregnant, she had been barely out of high school. Hence, the comments about babies ruining a career that hadn't even started yet. Her mother hadn't meant any harm by it.

"I just want to know more about the past, I guess," Sarah continued, as her father relaxed. Also, she made sure to emphasize the word mother while speaking about someone other than Karen. That would subtly get her point across. "All I remember from the early days is how Mom would say that having a baby hurt her chances at becoming a famous actress."

"Oh, honey," her father said sympathetically. "Your mother was never going to be a famous actress, no matter what hurtful things she told us."

Laughing a tiny bit, Sarah nodded and smiled. She hadn't been trying to insult anyone or obtain condolences. She was honestly curious. "What does a teenage mom do?"

"Well, your mom wasn't a teenager, exactly," Mr. Williams frowned. "I'm not into statutory rape."

Sarah winced. That wasn't how she had meant the question. It seemed her father understood the truth behind her inquiry though, because he continued.

"Sorry! You know that, already," he chuckled. "And you know I love you, right?"

" Of course, Dad," she told him, giving the man a one-armed hug from the side.

He smiled. Then, he paused for a time, as if he was considering his words. From the living room, she could faintly hear her stepmother clattering away at the sink, while she tried to clean after their supper.

"I didn't tell you this, when you were younger," her father began finally. "Your mother thought about having an abortion."

Sarah's eyes widened. Nervous, she wondered internally if she had been that much of a strain on the family. That kind of news was horrible. "She wanted to abort me?"

"No, no!" her father rushed to ameliorate his statement. "She only thought about it, because she had one before. She was . . . unwise, more than once, you know? In the end, Linda didn't get an abortion, because I encouraged her not to do so."

Heart-rate elevated, Sarah shook her head. Part of her hoped not to understand what he was saying. But she did. The one who kept her alive was her dad, all this time?

"It isn't that I'm pro-life," he kept talking, almost as if it pained him to stop. "It's just that she didn't seem to want one anyway! Linda said, angrily, that her previous boyfriend had insisted that she get one." Then, he started to laugh uneasily, trying to somehow make light of something that was not.

Obviously, telling this kind of story to the child who might have been killed, if the abortion had been carried out, it was nerve-wracking for him. Sarah took pity on him. "So, you both wanted me?"

"Of course!" he insisted. Based on how he had told the story, it seemed true. Still, Sarah had mixed feelings about it – knowing that her mother had considered getting rid of her. The idea stung, because Linda had mentioned quite a number of times how she wanted to be an actress, and Sarah was the only reason why she couldn't keep up appearances.

"Thanks, Dad," she hugged him again.

Before marrying Karen, her father had always seemed like the most wonderful person in the world. And he still was, but sometimes, it seemed he made excuses for his new family more than his old one. If Karen had ever done anything terrible in her youth, then Sarah wouldn't hear about it. And Toby could do no wrong. It was nice, and it was annoying, all at once.

Shuffling her feet, Sarah took a deep breath. She would tell him! If anyone could understand being a teenage mom, it was her family. Er. . . her father, that is. She didn't think Karen would understand or even try. So, she would allow her father to explain the situation to the stepmother.

When she opened her mouth, no words came out. Mr. Williams asked if she knew why she had been feeling sick, lately. It was the perfect lead-in. Yet still, Sarah couldn't speak. She was too nervous.

In the back of her mind, she invented an excuse. A way to delay informing her family, a little while longer. Denise might have a good method or a suggestion on how to inform people about pregnancies. Of course, this would require telling _Denise_ the truth, before her father. But it would be a worthwhile trade-off, if Denise gave her a pointer about how these things were done. Maybe a tale about the girl's cousin, and how _that_ pregnancy was announced?

"No, I've just been upset about school," she lied, feeling a tiny bit sick at doing so. Now, when she finally told the truth (and she would, just not yet!) her father would remember the way she put off telling him. "I'm doing badly in... um... math."

"Okay," said Mr. Williams, "Well, we hope you get to feeling better!" The smile on his face seemed a little less sincere at the end of the conversation, than at the beginning.

Sarah slowly climbed the stairs, having second thoughts with every step she took. She could just tell him. She should. And it would be acceptable to frame the Goblin King as the bad-guy in her story. Because he was a bad-guy.

And why was she making excuses for herself? Denise might not help. She'd been callous and a bit rude, when she told stories about her cousin. Also, any story Denise might tell would be about another person. Their lives were completely different. Sarah shouldn't base her actions on someone else's life.

Coming to a halt, halfway up the stairs, she turned around. She would tell her father, now. Before she returned though, she overheard Karen's voice in the living room. It emerged like a hiss, angry.

Karen snarled at her husband. "How could you tell her something so stupid?"

"Stupid?" Mr. Williams asked, sounding confused. "What part of . . ."

"Telling her that a teenage mother should 'want her baby' – it's stupid!"

"It is also not what I said," he disagreed vehemently. "We were talking about Linda."

Her stepmother remained unconvinced. "Why do you _think_ she is asking questions like that? She's pregnant! I just know it. Of all the irresponsible..."

Sarah trembled slightly, gripping the banister on the stairway. So, her stepmother had been listening closely while they spoke, and as usual, the woman had an opinion that she couldn't keep to herself. The fact that she might be correct, it didn't make Sarah feel better. It was rude for Karen to eavesdrop . . .

. . . like Sarah was doing now. . .

Placing one palm against her forehead, the brunette exhaled slowly. It wouldn't help anyone, if she became angry with Karen for guessing the truth. She should go back into the living room, right now, and tell them both. The news would come out eventually. Best to speak sooner, rather than later, so the adults didn't feel betrayed.

Meanwhile, her father had continued the dialogue. "Maybe. Maybe not. I don't know. What I _do_ know is: I don't appreciate being called 'stupid' for telling my daughter the truth about her past. I should have . . ."

"Truth?" Karen sniffed, disparagingly. It was the same infuriating tone that she often used with Sarah. The teenager had never heard her stepmother speak to her father that way, however. "What part of that was the truth?"

Now, Mr. Williams lowered his voice, upset but trying to hide it. The only reason that Sarah could hear the words was because she stood on the staircase. "I wasn't going to say that I wanted to be 'free' and I encouraged Linda to do the 'responsible' thing," he practically growled at his wife. "Jesus! That's like saying that I wanted my own daughter dead. Of course, I didn't say that."

"Maybe she needs to hear it," Karen replied.

The argument continued, but Sarah ceased to listen. She'd heard too much already. Chest clenched with fear, she finished her journey up the stairs, then ran into her room.

No, she didn't feel like crying. She didn't feel like anything at all. Leaning against the closed door in the bedroom, she stared at the window. Until a second ago, she had trusted her father completely. Now that she had heard a 'truth' from him (without his knowledge) she didn't feel certain, anymore. Suddenly, Sarah felt small, unloved, and unwanted.

What was the truth about her childhood? Was it better to know or not?

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The next day in school, she waved to Denise, but the other girl was too busy chatting with the marching band's troop leader to spare any time for Sarah. Well, it figured. Denise was always interested in geeky or eccentric guys – like the one who started that computer club, or the boy who enjoyed racing dogs. Because of the way Denise dressed in such tight clothing, boys were always interested in talking with her, too.

With a sigh, Sarah told herself it was better this way. She didn't really want to discuss a possible pregnancy with her friend, since the information might not stay private. Also, Denise said mean things, about her cousin. Sort of. It seemed that way, because Sarah sympathized with anyone who had morning sickness, now that she knew what it entailed.

Thus, she returned home at the end of the day, without speaking to anyone about the issues that bothered her. A whole day gone, and she'd only spoken with her classmates about the weather and schoolwork. What a waste! Sarah needed advice, from _someone_.

Entering the front-door, she slid off her shoes, only to see her stepmother coming down the hallway. Karen interrupted her actions, telling her to get dressed again. "We're going to the doctor."

"What?" Sarah asked, fearfully, "Why?"

"Because your 'sickness' never seems to end, and you've eaten only water and saltines for days."

"Saltines?" Sarah asked again, confused. She didn't eat any. . .

"Just get in the car!" Fuming, it seemed obvious that Karen was mad about the argument she had with her husband, last night. And equally obvious, she was willing to take anger out on her stepdaughter.

The entire car ride was spent in a state of nervous anxiety. Sarah barely managed not to bite her nails. Even when they arrived at the doctor's office, her stepmother sat there, angry and silent in the waiting room.

Sitting on her hands, to keep from fidgeting, she glanced at the stepmother. Karen was tapping her foot, as if impatience and anger were not transparent in her expression. "I'm missing work for this trip, you know," the lady finally said, indignantly. "And Toby's staying longer in day-care."

Sarah only frowned. She hated being spoken to like this, as if she was a burden. Also, Toby stayed in day-care this long, every day. "I didn't ask to come."

"Your father is worried about you," the woman added, carefully omitting her personal pronoun from the sentence. Heaven forbid, that anyone not blood-related to Sarah should worry about her.

Before she could reply, a nurse called out Sarah's name. Eager to be rid of the presence of her stepmother, she shot to her feet. When Karen stood as well, the brunette only shook her head, "I'm going in alone, thank you."

Fists clenched, the older woman waited alone while Sarah walked away.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"So, you don't want to take the pregnancy test?" the doctor verified, again. "Because you've never had sex."

"I cannot recall doing such a thing, no." It was a slight change in the words, but it made sense to her. Fixing the teen with a curious gaze, the doctor seemed suspicious of her phrasing, but he didn't ask for clarification.

It wasn't that Sarah did not want a pregnancy test. She hoped to buy one on her own. But here, in this office, the results would immediately go to her stepmother. It was probably a moot point. If she took a test and the result was positive, then she'd have to tell them anyway. But Sarah's emotions ran high, and she was still frustrated by Karen's behavior that afternoon and last night. Having a doctor show this result to Karen first, having a conversation with her stepmother instead of her father, it would be agonizingly unpleasant.

"Are you certain you don't want to try," the doctor asked a third time, "Just to rule out the possibility?"

"My symptoms don't match any other disease or sickness, huh?" Sarah rolled her eyes.

The doctor seemed taken aback by her flippant response. "Well . . ." he hesitated, "Not really, no. Sarah, I am only here to help. These results are for you, alone."

At this, she perked up. By accident, it seemed, the doctor discovered the actual source of her dread. She simply didn't wish to discuss her situation with her stepmother. Secretly, she did want to take the test. To 'rule it out' as the doctor said.

"These results will not be made public?" Sarah said hopefully. "I mean, you don't tell Mrs. Williams?"

"As your legal guardian, she has a right to know," said the man in the white coat, hesitating once more. "But you are welcome to be the one to tell her, instead of me. Unless of course, you hope to have someone else . . . ?"

"No, no. It's fine." No matter which way she squirmed and tried to wriggle out of it, apparently she would be taking a pregnancy test, before leaving the office today. The doctor genuinely wanted to help, and he believed she was pregnant, based on her symptoms. So, that meant something.

Depressed and discouraged, Sarah took the little test-strip in to the bathroom with her. She urinated in the cup, which was harder than it sounded, and then washed her hands. The hardest step was the last one. Soak the test-strip in the cup and try not to breathe for a few minutes out of anxiety. The last little bit wasn't in the technical requirements for the test, but she was having trouble breathing.

Besides, it helped to keep her calm, holding her breath for as long as possible, while she counted inside her head. By the time she reached thirty, she'd run out of air. Gasping, she gazed at the test-strip with a baleful stare. Still, no change in color. That was good!

Checking her watch, she saw three minutes had almost completely passed. No change! Hey, that was great! This meant that she was not pregnant, after all. There was no sign of change on the strip...

Of course, the stupid little plus sign just had to pick that exact moment to materialize.

Despite all the signs, suspicions, and the worrying she'd felt, somehow the result still shocked her. At heart, maybe she knew it all along. Still, Sarah had tried very, very hard not to admit the possibility to herself or anyone else.

Right about now, she should be feeling furious. The Goblin King did this to her, and she didn't even remember the incident, so he was an awful terrible horrible revolting person and she should hate him. But the feeling eluded her. She didn't hate him, even when she tried.

Maybe she was in shock? She didn't feel happy or sad – just surprised. Once her mind had time to process the facts, she'd have an emotional response.

Returning to the numbered room, where she'd been seeing the doctor, she took a seat. While she had taken the test, the physician had exited the room, so she had several minutes to stare at the tiny plus sign, darkening on the test-strip.

What did this even mean? She didn't want to be a mother. She was a high-school student! Was it some sort of punishment for wishing away her brother – Gwa-ha-ha! You can't take care of one child, here's another!

Just before the door opened, she contemplated throwing the test-strip away and claiming she didn't have any results. That was how ridiculously panicked Sarah was beginning to feel. She couldn't even make an obvious deduction, like the fact that everyone would see the test-strip in the garbage can. For a moment, at least, it seemed like a reasonable solution.

"Ah, there we are," the doctor smiled, inanely, upon seeing the pregnancy test in her hand. Why he had the audacity to act pleased, she did not know. Maybe he was pleased because an unexplained sickness was an anathema to all doctors. "Would you like to tell your parents," he continued gently, "Or would you like me to do it?"

As if they hadn't already had this discussion. Sarah hated the doctor a little bit, just then. "I'll do it."

"Would you like me to be in the room?" he went on.

"They aren't going to hurt me," Sarah snapped. "I said I'll tell them, so don't intrude."

The doctor's kindly expression disappeared, and he stepped back, face blank. Rude behavior had this kind of effect on people. Although he still seemed sympathetic, he would not offer help that she did not want.

"I'll send a report to your parents along with the receipt for our services, in the mail. Also, here is a bottle of pre-natal vitamins. You can buy additional supplies at the pharmacy," the doctor insisted. "These are very important, so be sure you take them!" Sarah nodded, glumly. Next, the doctor passed over a stack of paper. "These are pamphlets about pregnancy and child-rearing classes at the local hospital. The last brochure in the packet contains a list of counselors, if you should choose to see one? Finally, you'll need to see an OBGYN – I'm a general practitioner, so I am ill-suited to handle deliveries and checkups."

Teeth clenched, Sarah smiled thinly and thanked the doctor. Apparently, her emotional response had kicked in, and the frozen disbelief was over. She was feeling angry. Murderously angry. She would kill every damn goblin that she saw for the rest of her life and then kick their dead, ugly, little bodies.

How dare he do this to her? How could this be happening? She did the right thing, rescuing Toby, and now her life was ruined. It wasn't fair.

No, really! It wasn't fair! She said that a lot, but this time, it was really true!

Standing at the receptionist's desk, Sarah hated herself too. She did not want to discuss this with her stepmother. She hadn't had enough time to process the news.

"You're back!" Karen said, rising from her chair in the waiting room and coming to the desk. "I'll pay, of course. How are you? Did Dr. Richards have any idea . . . what might be wrong?"

It was sickening. All trace of fury and frustration had abruptly disappeared from Karen's tone. Suddenly, she sounded sweet and sympathetic, as if 'kindness' was her middle name. Sarah wondered if this was a show, put on for the benefit of the receptionist.

"Mm-hmm," she agreed, unwilling to say more.

"Sarah?" Karen pressed, as she signed the paper slip the receptionist slid over the counter. "What did he say?"

"Mm-hmm," she repeated, staring at the floor.

"Sarah? I know that you wouldn't lie to a doctor," her stepmother said, doubtfully.

Ah! There it was! The killer shark inside the stepmother had returned. Quietly seething, Sarah allowed herself to be insulted by the implication. It felt better to be angry with someone who was present, than with absentee goblins.

"Could we discuss this, _at home_?" she asked emphatically. Hoping not to make a scene in public, Karen acquiesced.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** Upper Nyack, New York is where the house in the movie was located. So, that's where Sarah lives in my story.

Some reviewers say babies are cute, yay! Others agree that underage, hallucinogenic sex is creepy and weird. Hahaha! Love it.

Next, I wrote this story years ago, but refrained from posting it, due to its' creepiness. I suppose the abortion laws in New York may have changed. In fact, I keep hearing about this in the news.

Finally, I apologize there is not enough Jareth in the story. He has no power over Sarah, you know?

**Labyrinth – Lessons Learned**

**Chapter 5: Parental Advice **

_He leaned forward, and she tugged on his jacket to maintain her balance, as his lips found hers. Kissing a person was different than she had imagined. Yes, all right! Just like every other girl, Sarah had practiced on her pillow. That was soft, cotton fabric. This was . . . smooth skin and warm tongue. She shuddered, not knowing how to feel, unsure what to do next. _

_Holding her close, the blond took the lead, which she appreciated, since her knees felt weak. She leaned on him for support. It wasn't just a kiss, it was a snuggle-hug. Those were good, too. Tilting her head, she copied his actions – a touch of tongue against his lips, a brush of her nose against his. This seemed to please him; he deepened the kiss. Suddenly, she was lost again – her __skin became hot, her cheeks tingled, a burning feeling ignited inside her stomach. _

_Pulling away, she looked at the man next to her. __It seemed like she should know his name, even though she couldn't remember it. H__e was different now,__ more commanding, more handsome. __She wanted him to kiss the base of her neck, the side of her cheek, the back of her hand. Every piece of her skin desired a touch of magic. She wanted to feel alive and knew he could demonstrate the way. _

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

All the way to the doctor's office, Karen had been frustrated and worried. All the way home, she made those earlier emotions look mild. Gripping the steering wheel tightly, she seemed about to explode with both curiosity and anger.

Sarah purposefully refrained from validating her stepmother's fears, until they had picked Toby up from his day-care center. This was cowardly, yes. But she didn't want to discuss the problem with her stepmother screaming at her. As long as Toby was present, the woman would be forced to keep cool.

At least, this was what Sarah thought. She was sorely mistaken. When they entered the house, the blonde woman settled Toby down for his afternoon nap. Afterward, they sat at the kitchen table, and upon learning the news, Karen yelled at Sarah to her heart's content. The fact that Toby was napping upstairs made no difference.

Finally, her father arrived home. He took one look at the women-folk and he seemed to know the answer, even before anyone spoke. Mr. Williams frowned.

The whole time, her biggest fear was how to tell her father. His opinion was the only one that mattered to her. Last night, she had been unable to gather the strength to speak. And now, she didn't even need to bother. Her stepmother ended up delivering the news, while she sat there like a fool.

Intensely disappointed in her, he became very distant. Mr. Williams couldn't seem to find any appropriate response for a few minutes. He put down his briefcase and loosened his tie, before joining them at the table.

"At least now I understand," Karen was saying, when he sat down, "What you meant by saying 'White is not my color' ."

Sarah winced. That was _not_ what she meant, when she made that comment. They had been shopping for clothes and the dress reminded her uncomfortably of the Labyrinth ballroom. Those words had nothing to do with her purity or lack thereof.

Almost like her brain was hot-wired to respond aggressively to her stepmother's maddening comments, she bit out, "And here I thought, you were always telling me to go out with more boys?"

"Don't you DARE lay blame for this, on me!" Karen shrieked.

Mr. Williams interrupted them both, placing his palms on the table. "Quiet! Both of you," he insisted. "Toby is sleeping."

It seemed as though Sarah had one disappointed parent, her father, and one furious parent, her stepmother. Perhaps they had rehearsed these roles in advance. Once they had settled down, her father inquired sternly, "Who is this boy?"

And despite the fact that Sarah planned to phrase her tale so the Goblin King was a bad-guy, somehow no words came out. "It doesn't matter," she said, finally. "He's gone."

"This little blighter is ruining your life, and you won't tell me his name?" protested her father.

Abruptly, her parents had switched roles. Now, Dad was frustrated, while her stepmother became somewhat calm. "This is normal," Karen placated her husband, in a smug sort of way. "Parents try hard to instill morals and values in their children, but the majority of teenagers refuse to listen." Then, patting the back of her husband's hand, she added, "It's not your fault."

Her father took a deep breath. "I'm not angry at this boy, or with you," he insisted. "I'm . . . I want to understand. Teenagers often feel invincible, like sexually transmitted disease or pregnancy can't happen to them."

"That's not . . ." Sarah attempted to interrupt.

"Also, you should know that any relationship you begin in your teenage years, it is temporary." Despite the fact that he claimed not to be upset, her father dominated the conversation with an angry tone. "There is no need to shelter this boy!"

She probably should apologize for not telling him last night, when given a perfect opportunity. She probably should stop antagonizing her stepmother, too. But Sarah didn't feel especially calm, either. "Temporary. A teenage fling. I must have learned from your good example! Clearly, that is what happened, here."

Karen quickly became irate on her husband's behalf, while her father seemed to withdraw, white-faced. Once again, they switched roles, returning to their original status. "Do not blame your mistakes on your father!" the stepmother said, "Neither of us are to blame for your behavior! I have HEARD him say that 'Abstinence is the best policy' and surely, you knew it was a good idea to use a condom, to be smart about sex, even if you chose to do something so stupid."

Her heart seemed to twist inside her chest. "Choice?" she murmured, "This was my choice?" The words were too quiet for her stepmother to hear, since the lady was too busy speaking. Mr. Williams noticed the quietly spoken comment, though. He looked even more concerned, motioning his wife to be silent.

"You told this boy to stop?" he asked, very worried now.

It would be easy. If she agreed, then everyone would know she'd been a victim not a participant. But she couldn't bring herself to say 'yes' or nod. First, it would require a name, a story about how this could have happened, maybe even a police man-hunt. Second, she didn't know for certain that she _was_ innocent in the matter. Was it called 'rape' if you probably said yes, but you don't know for sure, due to eating enchanted fruit?

"No," Sarah mumbled, gazing at the linoleum floor-tiles.

Furious, yet confused too, she couldn't tell them the truth. It sounded even more impossible than the ugly, false reality that her father and step-mother were building, wherein she had loose morals and acted poorly. Sarah put a hand to her head, wishing that she remembered more, that she could honestly explain this.

The mere idea that she had been harmed caused both adults to stop their lecture. Suddenly, they wanted to give advice, in a kindly fashion, instead of criticizing or yelling at her.

The blonde woman ran a hand through her hair, a calming gesture. "Well, it's all right," Karen announced, as if this was the conclusion everyone must reach, "You've may have considered it already . . . ending the pregnancy, I mean . . . We want you to know, this is not something you have to do alone!" Reaching out, she took her husband's hand. "We'll support you all the way through it."

"Um . . ." Sarah pursed her lips. Actually, she hadn't thought about abortion, at all. This wasn't from a pro-life standpoint, it was because she'd only received a positive pregnancy test-result _that afternoon_! Good heavens, her stepmother was insensitive. "I have another few weeks to decide," Sarah added finally, "Three, in fact."

"What are you talking about?" Karen seemed confused, "Weeks?"

"I'm guessing that I've been pregnant for nine weeks," the brunette said. Tilting her head, she counted the days. Yes, that seemed about right. "And the State bans abortion after twelve weeks, right? So, I have time to think about it."

Pleased to hear a sensible response, her stepmother reassured her. Also, the lady seemed happy to be able to reply with facts, using her legal knowledge in a beneficial way. "In some States, yes," Karen answered, "But you are lucky enough to live in the great State of New York. No such ban! Not until 24 weeks."

Annoying, the way Karen made assumptions about what she should do. Still, Sarah relaxed slightly. It was good to know that she could postpone such a momentous decision for a little while.

Then, as if the woman could read her mind, Karen advised her not to put it off. "The longer you wait, the worse for your body and the more painful the procedure."

With a sigh, Mr. Williams was forced to interrupt the discussion again. Having two women around with assertive personalities, it had to be difficult. "Look, Sarah. You are young with the world at your feet," he began tentatively. "Everything to explore and learn. . . There is plenty of time to settle down and get serious."

Vibrant green eyes pinned him down. "So, you think I should get an abortion too," Sarah said, "You're just more polite about saying it?"

He opened his mouth, paused, then shut it again. "No one is forcing you to do anything," Mr. Williams said.

After living with his daughter for so long, he knew that calming Sarah was the first order of business. They could discuss options another day.

Evidently, Karen didn't understand this. Or perhaps she was committed to fitting in as many words as possible, before her son awoke and she had to leave. Either way, the blonde kept talking. "You might hope this baby will make him 'love' you?" Karen said quickly, "I remember, when I was young, I was desperate to feel love, never realizing that love starts from within. I would cling to every touch, every kiss, making it more than it was. But . . ."

Sarah frantically waved her hands, cutting off the torrent of words. "That's not what is happening, here!"

Once more, Mr. Williams needed to soothe hurt feelings. "I'm sure what Karen was trying to say is that being a parent is not temporary. This is more responsibility than you are ready to carry."

"If she's old enough to have sex, then she's old enough to face the consequences," the blonde woman snorted.

"Enough!" the beleaguered man cut off his spouse, again. "We'll talk about this, later. All right, Sarah? Honey?"

Nodding slowly, she left the room to allow the adults additional time to discuss her life, in private. Which worked perfectly, because Sarah wanted to be alone. She needed time to think, too.

Softly closing the door of her room, she felt adrift in a tumultuous sea of emotion. She was angry, with just about everyone, although for different reasons. Also, she felt confused and sick to her stomach. Most of all, she felt sad. Why on Earth would her parents encourage abortion, one day after the story she had been told by her father? Her mother had an abortion and regretted it – isn't that what he said? Maybe Dad had wanted a baby, while Mom didn't. Maybe her mother had wanted it, while Dad said no. Whatever. The point was: Sarah could have been terminated before she was born, and that made her feel . . . very uncomfortable. Obviously, in Sarah's opinion, it would be sad to skip being born.

Not that she could place herself in her mother's shoes. Her mother and father had different circumstances. There had been two existing parents in that equation. Her own situation? It was just weird.

Which brought her to the most important question, in terms of being pregnant. Should she tell him? Because the father could be only one person, really. It certainly wasn't HOGGLE. Heh.

The relationship between her own parents had ended badly, because her mother, Linda, had been so young when it began. Relationships that start early, rarely work. Having babies added stress and frustration to life. Even if both parents loved the child, the reality of being parents only made them hate each other.

So, no. She probably shouldn't tell him.

The idea, however well-reasoned, still hurt.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

During supper, the next day, everyone at the table behaved distant and subdued. Well, everyone except Toby that is. 'Quiet' was not a valid state of existence for a baby.

Her father smiled often, asking how her day had been at school and how she was feeling. Although his smile seemed strained, Sarah mentally acknowledged the effort he made to be nice. Dad was always great like that.

After she finished the small amount from her plate which her stomach seemed willing to tolerate, Sarah prepared to carry her dishware to the kitchen sink. Mr. Williams signaled her to wait. "I'll do that, in a little bit," he said. Then, he pulled a few brochures out of the pocket on the inside of his suit.

A-ha! What was it with adults and brochures? She still had not read the pile of paper that her doctor had provided, at yesterday's visit.

"I'm sure it seems . . . ironic to you," he began, "That we would encourage you to 'give up' your child, after I told you that story about your mother."

Sarah leaned back on her chair, without speaking. 'Ironic' wasn't the first word which came to mind, no. It did fit the situation, though.

"I thought about it a lot, last night," her father continued, "What advice I could offer, that you might not hear otherwise – because I'm sure everyone will tell you lots of things – and all I could think of was: adoption! Again, no one is telling you what to do. I want to present all possible options to you, so you have a chance to think about … everything!"

Sarah rolled her eyes. On the one hand, she loved to be informed of her choices, and she did _not_ enjoy having her stepmother dictate her actions. On the other hand, sometimes a teenager in a bind wanted an honest opinion, rather than a list of options.

"I'm suggesting this, because it is a great thing to do!" Mr. Williams said, when he saw her lack of enthusiasm. "You'd allow two parents who truly WANT a child to realize their dream. Adoption allows everyone a chance to become happier than before – the birth mother gets a chance to continue her education. The adoptive parents have a family, which otherwise they'd be denied. The child obtains a stable home and a chance to flourish, in a way it might not without the adoption. It is a wonderful option. It could even be an open-adoption, where you see the child, whenever you want."

Nodding her head, Sarah admitted that he made a good point. And no, she hadn't thought about adoption, yet. He was correct about that, too.

With open hands, she accepted the offering of these brochures from her father. The front of the first page was glossy and showed a happy toddler holding hands with a new mother and father. Everyone was smiling. The birth-mother was not pictured, of course.

She could give her baby away to a loving home. It would absolve her of all responsibility on the subject. She could even visit the child, sometimes. Really, this did sound rather ideal.

"Why don't you talk with a counselor, too?" her father added, upon seeing the way she considered the brochure. "I've registered you with a local OBGYN; you have an appointment in one week. The OBGYN might be able to suggest a counselor? What do you say?"

"Thank you?" Sarah answered, furrowing her brow. What was she supposed to say at this juncture? Yes, adoption sounds super, let's do it! Hmm. It did seem like a nice option, but abortion was still a possibility too. After all, pregnancy was difficult for a girl. It would be hard on her body, it would alienate her friends, and she'd most likely drop out of school, if she didn't merely fall behind.

"Right, well . . . the clinic can explain your options also," her father finished, aimlessly, as if hoping for something more to say.

"Okay, Dad," she rose from the chair and gave him a hug. "Look – I really appreciate the help you've given me, already. And . . . I am sorry for not telling you right away. Both of you. Honestly, I am sorry."

Although she had included her stepmother in the apology, Karen didn't even look up. She continued to feed her son, without seeming to pay attention to the others. Sarah shrugged, deciding that her stepmother's response, or lack thereof, was the least of her worries.

"Do you mind if I call Mom?" she asked her father, before he left the room. "I thought maybe we could talk. But I know she always ties up the telephone line forever . . . so, if anyone needs to use the phone?"

"That's a good idea," her father answered. "She should hear it from you." Karen remained silent.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Darling!" the bright and lively voice of her mother practically sparkled through the receiver. "It's so good to hear from you!"

"Hey, Mom." Sarah smiled sadly. If only she had called for a better reason, then she might not feel so guilty. It seemed like the only time she spoke with her birth-mother was when things went wrong. It was a wonder that Linda still enjoyed hearing from her. "How are you doing?"

As if the question opened the floodgates, her mother began to gush, "Oh, darling, everything is wonderful. I've got a new role in the local play, it's called 'Silver Lightning' – I'm going to be the supportive Aunt, but she has some powerful lines, she really directs the audience's way of thinking. Jeremy is marvelous. As usual, he's finishing up some difficult contract work for the Board. You remember. Of course. He works for the city, but Manhattan is so large that they out-source lots of work to subcontractors."

"Yeah, of course. That sounds great," Sarah said, slightly discouraged. It was rude to interrupt, but without doing so, it was hard to fit a word in edgewise. "I'm glad you're both doing well. I just . . . the reason I called . . ."

"Oh! Also, the apartment is being remodeled, on the ground floor. Isn't that something? We live in the same building for years, telling the manager that he should have a guard downstairs and they should pay more attention to detail on the floor, and now, they finally are doing something about it. It's wonderful."

Sarah nodded, even though she knew her mother couldn't hear it. Undaunted, Linda continued effusively, telling Sarah about her work, about New York, about the theater. She didn't pause for quite some time. It was always like this with Sarah's mother. There was a reason why she didn't call more often.

Finally, the deluge began to lessen. "So, dear, what did you say earlier?" Linda inquired.

"Did you want to abort me?" Sarah asked. It was abrupt, and it served the lady right for talking so much. People felt they had to say things suddenly or not at all.

"What? No!" Linda objected strongly. "Of course not, sweetie!"

"Dad said . . ." she continued, only to be cut off again.

Linda blithely ignored whatever she'd been about to hear. "Your father claims many things," she said, "Saying whatever he wants people to think. But you shouldn't believe everything you are told. I mean, I did have one abortion. But that was before you, and I didn't do it again, because it was _painful_! Sweetheart! Such a question to ask, what a ridiculous . . ."

"Because I'm pregnant," Sarah blurted out, because that seemed to be the only way to insert the news into this conversation.

The silence on the other end of the line said it all. It only lasted a few seconds, though. Her mother seemed to take things in stride. "Oh, sweetie!" Linda crooned, "Sweetie, how wonderful! My little girl is all grown up now! Oh, Sarah I'm so proud of you. Congratulations!"

Opening her mouth to contradict her mother, Sarah took a breath, but then surrendered. There was no way to tune down her mother's riotous emotions. Instead, the teenager chose to listen. Maybe her mother would accidentally slip in something useful on the subject.

"That is such a surprise! A good surprise, of course," Linda was still talking, trying to explain away her silence. "I was startled for a moment there. Now, It is a big step to become a mother, but of course, you know that. Don't forget to make a gift-registry, an easy way to get free stuff from people. . ."

With a sigh, Sarah shook her head. Obviously, nothing sensible would come from this conversation. "I have to go."

Her mother protested. "Wait! You can't simply drop a bombshell like that, and then run off . . ."

"Mom!" Sarah protested in return, "I just wanted you to know. Okay? Okay. I'm going now. "

Quickly hanging up the phone, she cradled her head in her hands. Linda was usually like that, as if she was stuck in a manic mode. Without any further clarity than she had before, Sarah felt dispirited.

All she knew for certain was that she wanted the situation to Go Away. Not 'go away' like abortion – 'go away' like 'press rewind and make this never occur' . . . The Goblin King knew how to manipulate time. Maybe she _should_ tell him about the pregnancy, then insist that he undo it, somehow.

No. It seemed the Labyrinth didn't help her mature, after all. She was still naive and insecure and selfish. She only wanted to think about what was best for herself; she didn't want to do what was best for a baby. Besides, it wasn't baby yet, it was just a lump of tissue! It was just . . . a twinkle in her eye, a bun in the oven, a pea in the pod . . . And why were there so many stupid euphemisms about being pregnant, anyway?

Most of all, how was a girl supposed to reply, when another person congratulated her on a pregnancy? That was retarded. Anyone could be pregnant. It only required sex. _Congratulations,_ Sarah thought snidely, _Looks like you did the deed and didn't notice _. . . And then, she felt like crying again. But she didn't and she wouldn't. Sarah still had her pride.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's** **Note**: Thank you kittyspike08536, Spriggan, JetredGirl, LovelyAmberLight, Nicholle Phantomhive and various Guest reviewers! I am always honored to receive reviews. I agree with these reviews, too. Sarah has an internal belief (mistaken) that she is somehow complicit in this. I am glad to see that most reviewers know instinctively, these days, that it isn't the girl's fault, no matter what she said or did, under the influence. Seems like times have changed since I was a little girl, people have more accurate and informed viewpoints on this subject now. : ) This is great!

**Labyrinth – Lessons Learned**

**Chapter 6: Unrealistic Expectations **

_The way he kissed was sweetly devouring. Gentle and hungry all at once. She had been the one to pull away first, but that didn't mean she wanted it to stop. Her hopeful expression must have made it obvious. _

"_If there is to be another kiss," the man told her, sweetly, "You must give it to me."_

"_Ah?" Sarah murmured, incoherently. It wasn't a word, just a sound of confusion. _

_Her mind was still on the way that he tasted. Like chocolate and almond, sweet with maybe a touch of something bitter. An unknown spice. She licked her bottom lip, trying to analyze it, and he stared at her mouth, transfixed. _

_The colors seemed brighter in the room, now, almost heavy against her skin. The music was there, but it was also gone, because while she could hear it, she couldn't listen to it. If that made any sense. The music surrounded her, like heat on her skin, so she knew it was still playing, but music was meant to be heard by the ears, not by the skin, right? Something was wrong. _

"_There is a form for these things, you know," the blond man continued eventually, when she did not respond. _

_Sarah didn't understand his words. Humming with agreement, she burrowed her face against his jacket, scratching her cheek against the beadwork there. "Sarah . . . " her partner drawled, impatient yet also amused. He lifted her chin, brushing a thumb over the edge of her cheek, to ensure that she focused on him. How could she do otherwise? The breath caught in her throat. _

_"What?" she asks, her voice almost a moan. Belatedly, she finally could comprehend the request he made earlier. Sort of. It didn't make much sense. But kissing him seemed like a very good idea. So, she slid her hands over his shoulders to drag herself higher, noting as she did that his hair was softer than it looked, like down-feathers instead of mere strands of hair. It was a challenge to find his lips again, since he was so tall, but she succeeded. Maybe he helped, a little bit, too. _

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"You won't be able to do anything worthwhile for your child, you're only fifteen!" Karen was raging at her. School had ended for the day, and after she finished her homework, her stepmother had arrived home, Toby in tow. Like before, the woman seemed to care less about raising her voice in front of the baby than about yelling at Sarah. "This house cannot afford two children! I am not going to take care of your baby."

"I wouldn't expect . . . " Sarah inserted, only to be shouted over.

"You used to help me take care of Toby," Karen insisted, "You should already know what to expect. This is not going to be some easy, pleasure-trip."

All of this, because Karen had asked whether she decided upon an abortion, yet. Sarah had replied that she didn't know, she needed more time to think. And then, the yelling had started. When Toby cried, hearing his mother's angry voice, Karen simply picked up the boy and deposited him in the crib, only to return to her argument. Perhaps yelling at Sarah had a theraputic effect on her.

"I know that!" exclaimed Sarah. "And what do you mean, I 'used' to help with Toby. I look after him all the time. That is exactly why I know . . ."

"No, you don't know!" shrieked Karen. "You have NEVER woken up in the middle of the night to feed your child, you have NEVER changed a dirty diaper . . ."

Sarah put up her hands. "If you want me to do more. . ."

"I want you to make the responsible decision! We have a very small house. We need the space," Karen asserted. "I was anticipating that Toby would take your room, once you left for college, and that was fine. But now, you'll be a high-school drop-out and stay in your room forever!"

Clearly, fury had been simmering in both of them, for days. By now, Sarah was screaming too. "You don't want me in this house? You think MY room belongs to your son, not to me?"

"I'm saying that I will care for Toby," Karen protested, "You will care for your own baby, and neither one of us will have time to help each other at all."

"I don't want your help!" Sarah said fiercely. At the moment, she couldn't imagine anything that she wanted less.

"Fine! " Karen replied, still mad, although trying to contain it. The blonde woman turned her back, facing the sink, while she scrubbed at one of the pots in it. The brillow pad scritched back and forth, harder and harder.

"Glad we understand that," Sarah added, unable to prevent herself from trying to grab the last word in the argument.

"Maybe you should go live with your mother!" Karen snarled. Apparently, she also wanted the last word.

"Fine!" Sarah agreed, before storming away to slam the door of her room.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Toby had cried, Karen had comforted the baby, and eventually her father came home and comforted them both. Sarah simply remained in her room, trying to ignore how miserable she felt. She shouldn't need to feel guilty and miserable just for yelling back, after someone started an unreasonable shouting match.

Still, it took hours for her to become calm. No one came to check on her, so she knew that her side of the story had not been told, and that was okay. She didn't want to be around the family, right now.

Entering the hallway bathroom, which attached to her bedroom, Sarah lifted the hem of her shirt and stared at her stomach in the mirror. It was flat. That is to say, it didn't look different than usual. She was always a bit pudgy on that spot right below her belly button.

Turning to one side, she imagined it, huge and round. She tried to imagine her back hurting, her breasts sagging, getting ugly stretch marks, and being unable to lose the weight which she gained during the pregnancy. All these bad things would probably happen. Everyone talked about them.

But the situation seemed impossibly unreal. She couldn't fully imagine it. She couldn't picture herself like that, except in a hypothetical fashion.

Next, she tried to forsee the bad things that would occur in her relationships with other people. That was easier. Her parents were already disappointed in her. And like Karen said, her schoolwork would suffer, she might suffer a lack of job-opportunities, she might not finish high-school at all. Plus, the fact was – most guys did not want to date a woman who already had a child (by another man).

Hmm. Those negative aspects were easier to imagine than being fat with a child, at least. Sarah snorted, slightly amused with herself.

Was she being too pessimistic ? In school, the teachers often advised making a list of both benefits and costs, pro and con. She had to balance the scales, mentally. Without imagining both the good and the bad, her decision would be based on imcomplete data.

So, she tried to imagine good things. Instinctively, one hand rested upon her stomach. What would it feel like to have a tiny child inside her? Toby was cute, even Sarah had to admit it, but she knew from stories that a woman's child was always the most precious babe in the world. Hormones dictated this; her own child would be number one, Toby would be a distant second. Right?

Without meaning to, a sense of hopeless romanticism overtook her. She began to envision a walk through a park, with a child in the stroller. Maybe she would have a little girl, instead of another boy like Toby. A girl would be even cuter, wearing an adorable, lacy, little dress. Or a cute-looking baby boy. There was nothing wrong with boys! She imagined cuddling the baby on her chest, while they both lay on a bed, and the amazed expression on his face when Jareth saw . . .

Flinching away from the idea, Sarah stopped her train of thought. Damn it. She did NOT just think about him. The idea that her stepmother might be correct – maybe part of her brain was hoping this would make him 'love' her – it sent shivers down her spine. Not a good thought, even a momentary one. The other half of the fantasy immediately became apparent. It seemed far more likely that he would not want a child. He had wanted Toby, but only to turn her little brother into a goblin.

Furthermore, all of her thoughts were ridiculous. A little baby girl wearing a cute dress? She wouldn't give birth to a doll, she would have a baby! It wasn't like she could put the doll away on a shelf, when she was done playing. She would never be able to return to her own life and her own business, because her life would be shared with another. Permanently.

Was that a good thing, or not? Once again, Sarah could not decide. Somehow, the more she contemplated the possibility of having a child, the more empty she felt inside. She didn't feel emotional at all, rather she felt cold. Almost numb. Like the baby was draining all the energy out of her. _It is probably just an aftershock of the fight with Karen_, she rationalized.

She understood Karen's point. It wasn't nice when she yelled, but the lady was correct. A baby was a huge time commitment. Their house was small, already too cramped for Toby. Their finances were relatively low.

But somehow, the more that Karen insisted that she should get an abortion, the less she wanted to do it.

Still, she couldn't simply base her decision on that. Doing the opposite of what her stepmother demanded was a terrible plan. A childish scheme of revenge upon the wrong person.

Sarah was at least ten weeks pregnant, now. It had only been a few days since the doctor's visit. Yet time was flying by. Because Karen knew there was no law against abortion in New York, at this time, her stepmother was pushing her to change her mind before the weeks ran out. Yet it didn't seem like a "good" idea. Every time she thought about the future, she imagined 'when' she would have a child, not 'if' . . . Was this just hormones at work? Maybe her body was making her brain go crazy?

She did not want to do something permanent, like abortion. So, she was letting something _else_ permanent happen to her, instead. Ugh. What was she hoping to achieve here? Was Karen right about this too? Was she hoping to make the Goblin King notice her, pay attention to her, by using a child as leverage? As if that would happen. She knew it was unlikely. But she had the thought, at least once. She had pictured it, in her mind. Imagined what it would be like to form a family with exactly the wrong guy.

There were probably other girls in the world, who did this. Somehow, being pregnant screwed up the brain, until the girl believed no one could desire to NOT have a baby, while the guy was horrified about becoming a dad. Hmph.

Leaving the bathroom, she sat on the bed in her room, starting to feel weak. It really was cold, in here. How odd. She didn't feel hungry, just sick to her stomach, and empty. If fighting with Karen caused her to go into shock, like this, then she shouldn't allow herself to get angry and yell at the woman. It wasn't worth it.

Flopping over on to the pillow, Sarah couldn't even muster up the energy to remove her day-time clothing. She simply pulled the covers over her body, shoes and all. Maybe she would have that dream again. Maybe it would show her something the others hadn't yet.

She didn't want to think about the Goblin King, though. Burrowing her head into the pillow, Sarah forced all thoughts of the Labyrinth away. If she didn't think about it, right before bed, then she was less likely to dream about it. So, she used the old tried-and-true sleep routine. Counting sheep. There! That was suitably boring.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Schoolwork seemed especially hard all day. Sarah's energy level was dangerously low. She needed to eat something, or drink a lot of soda, or something . . . Why was it so hard to stay awake, today? It really did seem like the baby was sucking her energy away.

Denise hadn't noticed anything wrong. The other girl hadn't even bothered talking to Sarah. Once again, Sarah watched a friend pull away and didn't bother to do anything about it. Maybe they hadn't been as close as she thought.

By the time she reached home, just the thought of looking after Toby that afternoon made her feel like crying. Toby was almost always dumped in her lap (not literally) while Karen enjoyed an hour or two of free time. The older woman said it was important, since she got so little time to herself, and it was only right for Sarah to help the family in this way. As a high school student, Sarah had more free time than a hardworking lawyer, yes. But that didn't mean she felt excited about helping her stepmother, this afternoon.

She finished some homework, then laid her head on the desk. Before she knew it, she was asleep. The sound of the front door woke her, when her parents arrived at home with Toby.

There was a line on her forehead that showed where she pressed her skin against her notebook. Gah! Tidying her appearance slightly, Sarah went downstairs to greet her family. Toby seemed cranky and tired, in his mother's arms, and she wondered how much of that was from seeing his mother behave the same way.

It seemed her anger hadn't burned off yet. Karen was still not making eye-contact with Sarah. Was it really that upsetting to know that she was pregnant?

With a shrug, the brunette decided to grab a few of Toby's toys and roll them around on the kitchen floor. It enticed her sibling to crawl over and copy her actions. The baby boy could stand, but he was awful at walking. He was stuck on a plateau in terms of development, where he didn't want to crawl, but walking was too hard. That was what frustrated her baby brother the most.

"Have you told the boy or his family, yet?" a voice emerged from the kitchen. Karen was willing to speak with her, but not to look at her. Meanwhile, her father had gone upstairs to remove his suit and tie, finding more comfortable clothing for the evening.

"No," Sarah answered. "He's gone." She had told her parents that a few days ago, but obviously her stepmother didn't recall.

"It's the right thing to do!" Karen continued brusquely. "He deserves to know. Also, he should support you. Maybe _his_ family has room for a new baby, and you could move in with them."

Sarah blinked, stunned. It was the second time she had been told to 'move out' in just a few days. How insulting. "Um. . . he's not interested?"

Perhaps the lady was hard of hearing. When she mentioned that the 'boy' was gone, what did normal people believe it meant? Or perhaps Karen hoped to squeeze more information out of her, concerning the father of her child.

Sarah looked around, to see if anyone was nearby, then muttered under her breath, "I suppose I actually should go live with my mother." It had been spoken in a fit of anger the other day, but now she was actually considering it.

Hearing the softly spoken words from the kitchen doorway, Karen finally looked at her. With a sigh, her stepmother tried to soften the earlier statement. "I'm sorry that I yelled at you," the lady backpedaled, attempting to sound nice, even though it rang slightly false. "I didn't mean it when I said you should go live with someone else. We all want to be a family, here."

A tiny part of her brain recalled the advice that baby rabbit, Thumper, received, in the movie 'Bambi' – Karen needed to hear that advice too. She shouldn't suggest how small their house was, and how Sarah should move out, if she didn't actually mean it. It wasn't a nice thing to say, and it wasn't productive.

"At least Linda sounded excited about this baby," Sarah countered.

"I know that you think your mother will be all smiles and roses," Karen declared, "But it won't be any easier there. It would be a costly decision. You might have less support than you think."

No one had ever suggested that living with Linda would be fun. In fact, no matter how much Sarah loved her mother, she recognized that the lady was manic and overly emotional, a difficult person to deal with. Then, the middle of her stepmother's phrase caught her attention. "A 'costly' decision?" Sarah asked, catching the emphasis on the strange word. "What do you mean?"

Karen frowned. From the staircase, her father frowned also, but his dark expression was aimed at his new wife. Before Karen could say anything, he explained. "While you live with us, full-time," he said, while walking down the steps, "Then your mother pays child support to me. If you live with her, then I'll pay child-support instead."

Staring at her husband, Karen looked appalled, as if she wanted to take back the words. "What?" Mr. Williams looked back. "It isn't like she doesn't know. She sees me pick up the check every month."

Surprised, Sarah watched the pair of them. At least one of them was being honest. The more she listened to the woman, the more ridiculous her stepmother seemed, almost like a fairy-tale character. "I'd never really thought about it before," the teenager laughed faintly. "Is that what you are doing?"

"Yes," said Mr. Williams, as he joined her beside Toby. Then, pleased to see his son, the older man greeted the baby. "Hello, there, little guy!" Toby smiled.

While the blonde woman put plates of food on the table, she snuck little glances at Sarah, as if to read her mind, to check whether Sarah was going to suddenly move-out and deny them the child-support checks they had been receiving for so long. A 'costly' decision, indeed. How ironic that the woman would say such a thing, right after telling Sarah to move out and live with her boyfriend's family instead. Where would the child-support money go, then? Into her pocket?

It was odd, but Sarah didn't feel happy or sad or angry or _anything_ at the moment. Just numb. It seemed like the situation was escalating out of her control, and she didn't even care. In the back of her mind, she knew that she should be furious with Karen. In fact, she recalled being angry and yelling at Karen the other day. But right now, she didn't feel like it anymore. She was just . . . too tired.

Most of the dinnertime, she spent staring vacantly into space. Her father chalked it up to nausea and excused her from the table. Trudging up the stairs to her room, she sat on the edge of her bed and tried to force herself to stay awake. It was only 7:00 in the evening. It wasn't time for bed, yet.

A scuffling noise from the corner of the room drew her attention. There was a tiny goblin crouched beside the pile of clothing on the floor, looking lost. When it saw her, the goblin ran forward eagerly. "For youuuuu," it crooned in a squeaky voice.

Mystified, Sarah leaned over and lifted the object from the goblin's hand. It was a strawberry. Frowning, she turned the berry over in her hand.

Should she eat this? The goblins served their King, and she did not like him at all. But they were friendly little creatures, too. Sometimes. Maybe this wasn't from the Goblin King.

She looked around to ask the creature where and when and why he had obtained this fruit, only to discover the goblin was gone. Staring at the berry, she pondered it.

Finally, she popped the strawberry in her mouth. Why not? Even if it was from the Goblin King, that would be okay. Another poisoned fruit and she would have a dream, and when she would see him again, she would give him an earful, letting him know exactly how very, very unhappy she was with him.

Maybe he didn't know about the pregnancy, but that didn't mean his actions could be overlooked. She was still a young, impressionable, underage girl, and he deserved to suffer consequences for what he did. The police couldn't find him, so if they met again, then she should scream at him. That seemed the _least_ she could do.

The strawberry did not make her sleepy, however. A trickle of energy began to enter her limbs, like she had consumed a caffeinated drink. The emotional apathy from which she had been suffering began to dissapate. Sarah felt better, just by thinking about how she would yell at the Goblin King and imagining what she'd say.

But she didn't see him or dream about him at all, that night.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:** 7 W 92nd St New York, NY 10025 – where my grandpa used to live. This is where I described, from memory, as the apartment of Sarah's mother... Not that an actor could afford a place like that, these days ^_~

I have such amazing reviewers! Wow, I'm sort of shocked. Guest 2019 has figured out why Jareth isn't joining the party yet. Yes, there is essential information missing, sorry. : ) Hopefully, this chapter helps provide a tiny bit of detail? I don't want readers to think that I am blaming Sarah because she 'chose' this dream and her behavior. I tried to show that Jareth doesn't understand how much she was affected. Which is not cool. His peach. Should be more perceptive, instead of acting like "oooh she likes me after all!? Woo hoo!"

**GoodJoss **reminds me that cell phones didn't exist back when the movie was made. I read many stories that 'update' characters in to the modern age; I sort of thought people enjoyed this. But if it bothers, I will remove it! I simply wanted Linda to give a gift that was thoughtful and a trifle silly at the same time. Mostly thoughtful. Only a little weird. Linda is like that family member that thinks it is rude not to give a gift when you arrive but really doesn't want to spend much and doesn't think about what you need. Also, I wanted to show Linda as that person who 'needs' the attention to remain upon her, even when it doesn't make sense and she isn't the 'star' of the moment.

I'm not sure they had all the same blood tests / ultrasound equipment in the 80s. I'm definitely sure they didn't have doctor bills as high as the one Sarah sees - inflation! - but I'm leaving it in the story because... well, Sarah is having to learn all these new things and think new thoughts about money. Only so much I can do to make this like the 1980s.

**Labyrinth – Lessons Learned**

**Chapter 7: Moving on Without You**

_She was kneeling on the ground, someone grasping both her hands. Even more puzzled and confused than before, although it seemed like that shouldn't be possible, Sarah blinked her eyes and tried to focus. It was hard to see straight. Her whole body felt a little numb, and everything looked a little bit fuzzy. The air seemed thick and heavy, because it was hard to move. Someone was holding her hands. She felt cold and hot at the same time. _

_She swayed in place, and the blond man immediately placed one hand behind her back to support her. It felt like she was not completely awake yet, and it was time for school. She had to go to school. No. Somewhere. It was really important. Sarah whined, a keening cry in the back of her throat, but she couldn't make the words come out properly. She didn't know what she was trying to say. _

"_It's all right," he assured her. "You're all right . . ." But even his voice sounded a touch uncertain. He was inspecting her closely, watching her. "Are you all right?" _

_There were other people in the room, they were watching her too. Staring. She whipped her head to the side, upset for some reason, and the motion made her stumble against her partner's arm, unsteadily. No, wait. Everyone else was just dancing. No one was staring or laughing at her. That was good. _

_"Nuh. Don' like them," she mumbled. It felt like her tongue was swollen in her mouth and her words slurred. Releasing her hands, which found their way back around his torso, the man watched her with concern. _

_"They aren't real, little one," he promised. "This entire place is just a figment of your imagination. Just a dream." Sarah felt better upon hearing this and practically melted into him, because he was warm, and she was cold. Also, because he smelled good. And she liked his jacket. _

"_Such a dream you have chosen for yourself," her companion remarked with a sharp twist to his smile. He huffed with a touch of disbelief._

"_Again," Sarah asked. Although she didn't make clear what she wanted, she thought it should be obvious. She wanted another kiss. Those were wonderful._

_ "I'm not..." The uncertain tone didn't fit the man's usual style. Was he trying to step back? She wouldn't let him. _

_ "Again!" demanded Sarah, tugging on the blond's clothing. He was too tall. Not fair._

_At last, her companion seemed to listen. He stopped moving, then finally stroked her hair. "__If you insist," he said agreeably. _

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Are you sure you want to go?" asked her father. After fighting with Karen one too many times over the course of the week, Sarah had finally called her mother, deciding to ask about living with Linda. It wasn't any good as a threat if it wasn't possible.

As it turned out, Linda was extremely excited by the idea. When Sarah admitted that she was only thinking about it, her mother worked hard to convince her to make the trip. Manhattan, in Linda's eyes, was infinitely better than Upper Nyack, New York. Finally, Sarah decided that she would rather live with a family that seemed pleased by her pregnancy, than fight with Karen every day. Furthermore, if she did choose to abort the baby, then she'd find more clinics in the big city than her smaller town. Her brain was not usually considering abortion, but she wanted to keep her options open, she supposed.

So, her mother and father arranged matters. Suddenly, Karen seemed dismayed to watch her go. Perhaps she would feel a loss without a babysitter. Perhaps it was the cash-source, Linda's child support, that she regretted to lose. Or . . . perhaps Sarah was being too harsh, and the lady actually felt guilty about her behavior for the past week. It didn't seem like Karen appreciated having her around, but then Sarah had been difficult lately.

There was only one last thing which she needed to do, before she left the house. Telling her father to wait a few more minutes, she ran back upstairs to the mirror on her dresser. She'd packed her bags, she had checked out of school, but she hadn't spoken to any of her friends from the Underground. She had to tell them goodbye!

"Ludo? Hoggle?" the brunette said tentatively. "Sir Didymus?"

It only took ten seconds, for several images to appear. It looked like the three individuals were far apart from one another, however their images were overlaid in the mirror, making it confusing to view them clearly. "Sarah?" Hoggle spoke first. "You haven't called in some time."

"Sorry!" Sarah replied, trying not to feel guilty. She had so much going on in her life right now, that she hadn't spoken to any of them for weeks and weeks. "I wanted to tell you all, before I went. Um . . . I will be moving somewhere else, for a little while. Is there any way to transfer the power from this mirror to another one? I hope to be able to talk to you, somewhere else."

"Tisn't necessary, my lady," insisted the fox. "If you need us, we shall be there. The mirror isn't a requirement."

Surprised, she checked this fact with Hoggle, but he agreed. It didn't seem that the three creatures from the Labyrinth could hear each other, only her. Still, if she was able to call upon her friends, from any place, without even using a mirror as a device, that was wonderful!

Smiling sincerely, she thanked the trio, then insisted she would call much sooner, the next time. Ludo's face was the last one she saw in the mirror, and it seemed like he was the most sad to see her disappear. Poor guy probably didn't understand half of the conversation, since she had been speaking to the other two.

Downstairs again, she counted the bags, made sure she had the train-ticket, and gave Toby a big hug. She would miss her little brother, that was for certain. Sadly, he would probably forget all about her, before she returned.

"You've already been enrolled at the school there," her father assured her, while they drove. "It was all quickly done over the phone. I was happy to know that your mother could work along with me, if the issue was important enough!" With a laugh, he showed Sarah that he would miss her, but he was already feeling a bit more free and less stressed by the situation, now that she had decided to visit her mother.

When they arrived at the station, Mr. Williams checked that she knew which train to take, and what time, and how to deal with thugs or anyone else who might take her seat. He seemed nervous and worried. Sarah promised that she would be okay.

Hugging her tightly, her father reminded her, "You can call anytime, whenever you want to come back."

Sarah was glad to hear this, but she was miffed by Karen's behavior. She couldn't think of any reason why she would want to return. Instead of insulting her stepmother, even indirectly, she smiled. "Thanks, Dad. I love you, you know?"

"I love you too," he returned the sentiment.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

No one came to the train-station to meet her. This was prearranged. Her mother was excited to see her, but the city traffic was terrible, and there was never any parking at the airport. Half the time, Linda claimed, she lost her car-keys anyway.

So, Sarah rode in a taxi from the terminal to her mother's apartment building. Wide-eyed, she watched as the miles passed and the bill for the taxi-cab mounted. Sheesh! Getting from point A to point B would use up almost all the cash that she'd been given by her father.

The apartment was lovely from the outside, although it had the stamp of busy-city life all over it. No fewer than thirteen trash cans were piled outside the ground-floor windows, and the fire-escape ran down the front of the building, instead of the back or the side. Why? There wasn't any back or side, every building touched every other building!

For the first two floors, the apartment showed grooves, a design which had been stamped into concrete. The rest of the floors were plain brick. Columns had been placed to either side of the main entrance, as well. Again, it was just a design in the concrete, the columns didn't actually bear weight.

A tiny elevator grumbled and groaned, lifting her up to the correct floor. Then, the moment of truth arrived. Shouldering her bags, Sarah gathered her courage. So far, the apartment building had been really cute-looking, and she was happy to be given a room (even a little one!) in Manhattan. Ironically, although she lived in the State of New York, she'd never visited the famous city.

At the sound of her knock, her mother opened the door, as if she had been waiting nearby. "Oh! Darling!" cried Linda. "So good to see you!" They exchanged hugs and smiles, then Linda began a very abbreviated tour for the living room. "Just put your suitcase here, for now, we'll get you stored away later."

The room was very small, only twelve feet wide until it met the window. But that was okay. Living in Manhattan, most people had to deal with what seemed like a cramped space in any other city. The striking feature of the room wasn't the size, it was the mess.

The living room was very messy. Not only untidy in terms of dust or food-stains, but also, the chamber was full of clutter. There was stuff all over the place. When her mother had opened the door, it almost seemed to pour out into the hallway.

Sarah didn't remember this about Mom. When Linda saw her gaze over the piles of miscellaneous junk that had piled up on the floor, she laughed. "Yes, I know. You don't even have to say it. But I'm always on the go, and I never have _time_ to clean up!"

It looked like some stage-props from the theater had made their way into the apartment and set up residence. Sarah ignored the clutter with a smile. Back home, for a long time, she had an untidy room too. It was one of the many things that Karen had disliked about her. Her room had been messy on a much smaller scale, though.

"This is the kitchen, and through that doorway there is the bedroom, bathroom, and guest room. They all attach, with the bathroom in the middle. It's splendid, really. I'm sorry that we don't have more time, I'd like to show you everything. But I have a doctor's appointment scheduled for today. Not for me, of course, for you! I told them it was an emergency."

Sarah shook her head. "It's not . . . an emergency?" she replied, almost questioning whether it was or not.

"Yes! It is!" her mother declared firmly. "Everyone should see the doctor within a few weeks of becoming pregnant. And you said you're 11 weeks along!"

With a sheepish smile, the teenager agreed. Her stepmother pushed for the first doctor's appointment, but once the diagnosis of 'pregnancy' was delivered, no further effort had been made by Karen. Her father had registered her with a local OBGYN but that visit had fallen through, due to her move.

So, off they went. Along the way, her mother chattered happily, pointing out the window of the taxi and showing her some favorite spots. "If you go that way, you can see Central Park. And over there, you'll see my favorite bakery," Linda remarked. "Isn't it amazing, living somewhere that still has individualized, specialized eateries? Like a butcher shop or a bakery. Most shops are all-in-one restaurants or grocery stores, these days. But not in this part of New York City. I love it, here."

Sarah relaxed. She didn't even need to discuss the pregnancy with her mother. No questions had been asked about the 'boy' that she'd been with. Linda seemed happy to discuss absolutely nothing at all, except for her interests. This sort of thing could be exhausting for the listener, but at the moment, Sarah didn't really want to participate in the conversation anyway. So, it was great.

Also, she was glad to know she'd have a friend at the doctor's office. When they arrived at the building, there were so many offices inside the building it was a bit bewildering. Luckily, her mother knew which floor and which chambers to enter.

All along, Linda continued to seem happy and excited about the whole ordeal. Sarah worried that her mother was forcing herself to act like she felt pleased. Who knew? At any rate, the older woman insisted that she was looking forward to being a grandmother, or helping Sarah in any other way that she deemed appropriate. Linda was positively gushing with joy. It was nice, although a tiny bit weird.

The office was small, the waiting room was crowded. Sarah saw at least three other young girls, so it seemed like she wasn't the only one with this situation. Perhaps this clinic specialized in teenage pregnancies, not just pregnancy in general. Hmm. She was the only one with a small stomach.

"Oh! That's right," Linda added, remembering one more detail. "I bought you a date planner, just to help you keep everything in order. Writing things down in the calendar is the only way to stay organized when you have a baby!"

Surprised, Sarah thanked her mother. "Thank you, I hadn't even thought of it." Although the baby would join them whenever it came, not on any sort of schedule, she understood what her mother meant about needing to be more organized with a child.

"I know," Linda nodded, "And this way, you keep your thoughts and activities in order... "

"Sarah Williams?" She heard her name being called, which caused her mother to pause the seemingly never-ending flow of words. The nurse smiled as they approached, while Sarah absentmindedly stuck the new date planner in her pocket. She didn't even look at it, since they were called so quickly after Linda gave the gift.

After being shown to another room, behind the desk and around the corner, Sarah waited with her mother while a nurse performed the usual procedure – taking blood pressure and heart rate. There were many photographs on the walls. "Are those all children that this office has delivered?" she asked, glancing around.

"Dr. Apple enjoys receiving pictures from patients, so she puts them up, everywhere!" the nurse agreed merrily.

Until then, she hadn't even known the name of the OBGYN. That was good to know. She was letting events pass her by too quickly, Sarah thought. She should pay more attention to the surroundings.

"I picked out the nicest cover that I could find, I thought maybe you would like it." The sound of her mother's voice startled Sarah half-to-death. She had allowed the older woman to slide out of her thoughts for a moment. What were they talking about? Oh, perhaps Linda was still referring to the notebook that she had given as a gift. Right.

"I'm sure it is very nice," Sarah smiled a little bit. "Thank you for the calendar. Sorry. I don't remember if I said that yet."

"Yes, you did, don't worry – just try it! It's for next year, and the photographs on each page are nice. You always used to like kittens and puppies as a girl, I thought you might like this copy for the illustrations."

Tuning her mother out for a moment, Sarah reached into her pocket. The date planner didn't seem all that remarkable. It was cute, with pictures of puppies and kittens, just like her mother said. Some of her mother's information was written inside, like address and phone number. Not that Sarah was unaware of Linda's phone number, but the thought was nice.

"I'm sorry I didn't get something more," Linda apologized without sounding sincere. "There was not much time to think about what you might need the most as a new mother, so I thought . . ."

"No, Mom, it's okay." Disappointing her mother was not part of the plan. Still, it was just a pocket calendar. She didn't know what else to say, other than 'thank you'.

"Great! All right," Linda finished finally. "That's good. Hey! I'm really sorry to say this, but . . . I have an appointment with the director at 4:00. Do you think you will be okay without me here?"

Another nurse entered the room, just then. Yes, she'd be fine without a helper. Still, she was amazed by how hectic and busy this lady's life seemed to be, on a daily basis. "It's okay. I'll be good."

"I'll get back to pick you up, don't fret," her mother informed Sarah. "You might not remember where the apartment is, and we don't want you getting lost!"

Sending her mother away with best wishes, Sarah followed the newest nurse into another room. So much for having a friend along, when she first visited a doctor about the pregnancy.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

In the end, the doctor was very friendly. She was a short, dark-skinned woman, who seemed incredibly thin. She had the whitest teeth that Sarah had ever seen, and she smiled a great deal, so everyone saw them often. Sarah was happy to have a female doctor, even though the doctor didn't need to see her naked – it was the baby they were checking, not Sarah.

"In most cases, where there are no problems, you'll have two ultrasounds during your pregnancy," Dr. Apple explained, helpfully plotting a roadmap for the entire pregnancy. "First, the dating ultrasound, between 10 and 13 weeks. You say you're eleven weeks along, so we'll do that today."

Sarah nodded. It wasn't that they didn't believe her about the timing, it was just that they had to measure the size of the fetus for themselves. Also, they counted the date of age for the fetus from her last menstrual period, instead of the time of conception, which seemed odd to her. This meant that the date would always be a week too long – they counted time in which the egg and sperm hadn't even joined up yet.

During the ultrasound, the doctor exited the room. The nurses were proficient in this procedure, and they seemed to do everything. The sonographer put some blue gel on the skin of her stomach, then rubbed it around with a hand-held device, called a transducer. It was cold. The gel, that is, not the machinery. The transducer just looked like a flat-headed wand.

"You see that?" the sonographer asked, as she moved the wand. Sarah didn't see anything of interest on the black and white TV screen, and she said so. The nurse merely chuckled. "That's the head. We measure from the crown of the head, down to the bottom. Then, it's just assigned a date of conception, based upon average size, instead of any specific day that you might think about."

"How is that helpful?" Sarah wondered. Why should an average date matter more than a specific date? But the nurse didn't ever answer her question, specifically. The sonographer referred to their reasons for doing the procedure, instead.

"This ultrasound reveals if you are carrying one baby or more. Also, it checks the baby's heartbeat."

Thoroughly distracted, Sarah lost track of her earlier question, in favor of a new one. "It has a heartbeat, already?"

"Well, yes, it is growing and it needs to circulate the nutrients around. Your own heartbeat is too remote to help."

"But I read that the heart hadn't . . . the heart would not be complete, for months!" the brunette exclaimed. "How can a heart beat, before it is finished forming?"

With a smile, the nurse only shook her head. She seemed impressed by this feat of nature, too. "It has started forming, even though it isn't done. The heart tissue just tries to contract, and it shakes the entire embryo. Everything floats around pretty quickly, in there."

Now, staring at the TV screen, Sarah tried to make out the embryo, where she hadn't bothered before. There was a tiny fluttering dot on the screen. It looked like a pea-pod, with a curly string coming off one side, like a deformed quotation mark. It didn't look a thing like a baby.

"Would you like to hear the heartbeat?" the lady asked. "Sometimes, girls don't want to hear it, if they are considering . . . other options than birth."

"Sure, I want to hear it." Sarah enthused. Not because she was happy about being pregnant, but because she had never heard an unborn heartbeat. Besides, she was amazed that the heart could start contracting before it had formed!

With a shrug, the nurse turned on a speaker, and a large amount of hissing noise emerged. Then, a tiny swooshing sound emerged from the static. It didn't sound like a heartbeat, though. "That is the fluid in the placenta," explained the nurse, upon seeing Sarah's consternation. "Hold on." Moving the transducer wand around, she finally found the little dot, once more. "There. The heartbeat is very fast."

Now, all Sarah heard was a swooshing noise, combined with a buzz. It still didn't sound like a heartbeat. It sounded like a ceiling fan that was out-of-order and ticked while spinning. She frowned. Well, no. Not quite like that. Just the speed of it.

Meanwhile, the nurse finished making measurements. The screen went blank, and the sonographer handed her a paper towel to clean her stomach. Next, she took a blood sample.

Sarah hated needles (who didn't?) so she faced the wall, rather than watch her blood running into a tube. "What's this for?" she asked, hoping to distract herself.

"The blood test is how we check for abnormalities. The lab will measure the level of the hormone hCG and plasma proteins. Abnormal levels of these might indicate Down Syndrome."

The casual way the lady spoke these words made Sarah believe it wasn't that common. So, she tried to relax. "Can we tell the gender?"

"Not this early," the nurse replied. "Everything looked normal – a good amount of fluid in the sac, and the baby was just about the right length to correspond to your predicted conception date."

As the staff member left the room, Sarah huffed. It wasn't that much of a prediction, since there was only that one time. An event that she didn't recall. Even now.

Feeling downcast, Sarah tried to analyze her emotions. For some reason, she thought the ultrasound would be more . . . fun. Other people had described this part of the pregnancy with excitement and expectation. Some people claimed that they could feel 'love' for that little wiggling dot on the screen. But Sarah's feelings were exactly the opposite. With stubby arms and legs and a relatively giant head, the embryo looked deformed, not cute. She wasn't overcome by a feeling of motherly bliss. It didn't seem like the most amazing thing that had ever happened to her. And she still didn't think that babies were some sort of miracle sent by God. It was just biology. In fact, if this were a blessing sent by God, it would not be a very good one, because it was definitely making her life worse.

Overall, she felt dissatisfied and discouraged. It vexed her, not to feel emotional about a new experience, like this.

Then, Sarah realized that she had felt this way, once before . . . It had started just after the fight with Karen. She had been dispassionate, like the energy drained out of her. And only after she ate that strawberry, from a little goblin, did she begin to feel more lively.

Had that strawberry been more than just a bit of fruit? Surely, the Goblin King didn't know about this. She hadn't told anything to the denizens of the Underground. Not even her closest friends.

Unable to make up her mind whether to feel dismayed or not, she silently wished for another strawberry. Maybe it had helped. Maybe not. Either way, she felt quite exhausted, again. And she didn't like it.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

At the front desk, she received the bill. An ultrasound and a blood test cost almost a thousand dollars? Shocked, she worried about the money, since she didn't have any. Luckily, the receptionist only asked for an insurance card, and her mother had already covered the co-pay cost. It would seem that she was still listed on her father's insurance plan. Neither of her parents wanted to change the court-documents, so they unofficially agreed that Dad would cover her health insurance, and in return, Mom would not pay child-support. Sarah felt grateful that her parents could work things out, like this, even when they hated each other and couldn't bear to stand in the same room at the same time.

It was half-past four o'clock, before she saw anyone that she recognized, on the street. Linda did not show up. Instead, her boyfriend was there. Unlike her mother, Jeremy actually remembered where he put his car-keys, and he brought the vehicle to pick her up. Hah! That was nice.

"Hey, there!" the actor greeted her. He looked much older than she recalled. But then, Sarah hadn't seen Jeremy for years. "How was your doctor's appointment?"

"Fine," Sarah smiled. He appeared relaxed and glad to see her. And she appreciated that he brought his own car, instead of forcing them to ride in a hot, smelly taxi-cab. Given the rarity of parking spaces outside any given apartment building, this was something of a sacrifice – using one's vehicle in Manhattan. "How was _your_ day?"

"Oh, don't be silly. I have a wonderful day, whenever I have the chance to be around a beautiful girl." He was looking at her, while he spoke, so Sarah took this as a compliment.

"Thanks! Um. . . you too!" she laughed. As they drove away, she shared the news that the doctor and nurses had told her. It didn't seem to affect Jeremy any more than it had affected her, at the office. He wasn't acting excited or happy like Linda. He also did not act unhappy or angry like Karen. It was a nice change. Probably that was because he felt so removed from the situation – no matter what she chose to do, he would not be affected by it.

Approaching the apartment building, after nearly an hour of driving, Sarah thanked him again for the ride. He laughed about her comment regarding the parking spaces. "It's worth it," he explained, dismissing her concerns, "To be generous to a gorgeous girl like you."

Sarah felt uncomfortable for no apparent reason. This was the second time he had mentioned how beautiful she was. Casual compliments were nice, but if it happened too often, then it was weird. Also, she had the strangest suspicion that he had been sneaking peeks at her chest, while they drove. He rarely looked up at her face, when replying to her directly. Okay, maybe that was weird, even without the statements on her appearance.

So, she didn't say anything, as they parked. Sarah just got out of the car and followed Jeremy back toward the apartment. It was several blocks away, due to parking.

"You look so much like your mother," Jeremy remarked, as they crossed the street, "When she was younger."

Sarah frowned. Yes, definitely creepy, now. But how to reply so that he didn't make that type of remark again? She didn't know, and once again, she failed to reply at all.

The elevator ride seemed to take ages. Jeremy stood precisely in the center of the small car, so she didn't have any spot to stand, without being close to his side. When the elevator door opened, she saw her mother down the hall and greeted her with great relief.

After exchanging a hug with her mother, they all discussed what to have for supper. It was like nothing odd had occurred at all, around Jeremy. Was that awkward moment all in Sarah's head?


	9. Chapter 9

GoodJoss mentioned inconsistency in the plot vs the 1980s. I changed a small portion of the last chapter. Thank you for the reviews!

**Labyrinth – Lessons Learned**

**Chapter 8: New School **

_Sarah tried as hard as possible, to remember more about her time with the Goblin King. Before she went to sleep, she envisioned the crystal ballroom, hoping that it would inspire a dream, a flashback of sorts, like those she'd been having earlier. Something. Anything. _

_But nothing more seemed to come. That night, she had no dreams at all. _

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Neither one of them seemed to be home at the same time, and neither one seemed to stay longer than a few minutes. Both Jeremy and Linda had busy lives.

Still, on the first day of her school week, the blond actor managed to make an appearance at the breakfast table. "Have you decided yet?" he asked bluntly.

"Decided?" Sarah asked, wondering what his question concerned and dreading the answer.

"Whether to have an abortion yet."

So much for her mother's boyfriend failing to take a stance on the issue. He had no business asking such a question, but at the same time, he didn't seem to care about her response. Maybe he was just rude.

"No." This was the most that Sarah would say on the subject. Again – it was not his business. At least Karen could get away with her insensitive inquiries, since the stepmother had some sort of stake in the outcome, and Karen was justly concerned.

Abortion was on her mind lots, lately. It would be beneficial, in some ways. It was hard on the body, and it was painful, but she wouldn't have a life-long consequence from an affair that she didn't even remember.

"Hmm," Jeremy grunted, moving on to another topic. "Sorry. In the morning, before my coffee, I am a lot more direct. I shouldn't have said anything."

Sarah nodded slightly, already forgiving the man, since he came to the same conclusion that she did. Coffee. It made the world go around, caused the United States to have productive workforce, and best of all, it suppressed those crude comments one wanted to make in the morning.

"Can I make it up to you," Jeremy continued blithely, "By saying how lovely you look today?"

Hmm. There was _another_ weird remark. Two in a row. She had that creepy feeling again, while she was around Jeremy.

Ignoring his addition to the conversation, Sarah concentrated on her oatmeal. It was really fantastic. Beyond normal, in fact. It tasted like . . .

Was that cinnamon? She couldn't recall putting any cinnamon on top of her oatmeal. Still, it really tasted great, and her energy level seemed fine, this morning. She felt ready to take on the world.

A tiny goblin scurried under the furniture. Sarah tried her best not to respond in any way. The little imp wasn't bothering her, so she wouldn't bother it. Besides, it would make her look insane to notice the little guys in public.

"I have to go," she finally told her companion at the table. "It's my second 'first' day of school."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The first few classes went smoothly enough. It wasn't until lunch when she discovered how difficult and awkward it was to be in a new place, without knowing anyone. Finally, one of the girls waved at Sarah, and she joined their table. "Ah, thanks!" she exclaimed happily. It is much more crowded in this cafeteria than my old school. I can barely hear myself think."

The other girl laughed. She seemed nice enough. Sandy colored hair, with a few freckles spotting her nose. "Are we in class together?" Sarah continued.

"Yup," the girl replied. Her accent sounded less like New York and more like Vermont. Whatever. She was the first person to act friendly toward Sarah, here. That was great! "You were introduced in my math class. My name's Kelli Beck."

"Sarah Williams," she returned. Of course, the other girl probably recalled the name from when the teacher introduced her.

There were a few other girls at the table, and only two boys. The boys didn't seem as excited about lunch as their girlfriends; they talked to each other, primarily. After a round of introductions, full of names that Sarah knew she might not remember, one of the other girls asked the obvious question. "So, why did you change schools? Must be tough in the middle of the year."

All morning, she had debated whether to lie when asked this question. In the end, she decided not to. If she didn't receive an abortion, then the reason for her transfer would soon become apparent. She opted for honesty. It was easier than remembering a fib.

Still, now that the moment had arrived, it was difficult to tell them the truth. How would that make her sound? Maybe she should simply say . . . No, no. Shaking her head firmly, Sarah resolved to stick with the truth. Honesty was easier than making something up.

"My stepmother found out that I was pregnant," she said in a small voice. "So, she didn't want me in the house any more. I came to live with my real-mother." This was how it happened, more or less. Painting herself as a victim, instead of the one who made the choice to leave, that would be okay, right? It wasn't a total lie. Just a partial cover-up.

One of the boys perked up, when he heard the reason. "Oh my God!" he groaned next. Standing up, he spoke at the top of his voice. "We have another one! Why do teenage mothers like our school so much?! Come on, people!"

A chill went down Sarah's spine. Should she have avoided the truth, after all? It was very alarming to have the news that she was pregnant shouted, loudly, across the whole cafeteria. Maybe she should have said that her family just . . . moved suddenly, or . . .

The sandy-haired girl apologized. "Eh, my boyfriend's an idiot. Sorry for the announcement."

That was it. The only apology she received. Mediocre at best.

The rest of the day was incredibly awkward, with many odd looks and stares. No one else even bothered to try and speak with her, except for one curly-haired girl, who asked whether she was excited to be a mother. Sarah didn't even want to open the can of worms, waiting for her, if she mentioned the possibility of abortion. So, she just refrained from answering. The other new girl seemed miffed and quickly left her alone.

Sure enough, the next day, no one sat with her at lunch or left any openings at their table. Sarah decided to read in the library. Books had served her well, in her prior school, also.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

That evening, her mom was home, along with Jeremy. Linda went to bed early, claiming a headache. This left Sarah and Jeremy alone, in the incredibly cluttered living room. Like magic, the only available seat was the one right next to the old actor.

For no particular reason, Sarah did _not_ want to sit in that chair. She sat at the kitchen table, instead. The room was much smaller, and the table was a joke, but at least she wouldn't be near Jeremy. As for her room, there was no spot to do homework, in there. Apart from the mess, it was a nice place to stay. Her mother had cleared a corner of the guest bedroom for her. The rest of the bedroom was packed full of miscellaneous objects that Linda insisted she would tidy up, any minute. But there was no chair in the guest bedroom. So, the kitchen, it was!

After doing a few homework problems, she heard footsteps entering the room. Jeremy was hovering beside her chair, evidently unwilling to remain by himself in the other room. "How was the first day?"

Polite conversation was easy enough. Sarah tapped her pen on the paper, and she told him that everything had gone well. Jeremy was trying to be nice, asking about school.

"I thought it might have gone badly," he replied. "You look so stressed out."

"Do I?" Sarah asked, halfheartedly. Why did she have such an eerie feeling of discomfort, around him?

"If you like, I could massage your shoulders?" the older man offered. "I've been told I'm excellent at relieving stress."

"Um . . . no, thanks." Sarah turned him down, naturally. She didn't want the guy to touch any part of her body. No thank you, indeed. Maybe this was why she felt uncomfortable around him for the last two days.

"Hmm," he said offhand, as if the answer didn't matter to him one way or another, "Your loss." Then, he laughed, a dry chuckle, before letting her finish the homework in peace.

Grinding her teeth together, Sarah frowned. What kind of a stupid comment was that? Maybe he _was_ simply trying to be kind, and he didn't know how it made him sound. Trying to give Jeremy the benefit of the doubt, Sarah pushed the incident to the back of her mind. But she made a mental note to mention it to her mother, the next day.

If he made any other peculiar remarks, then she'd tell him how it made her feel very uncomfortable. Right now, she had to finish math homework. This new class was covering a totally different part of the subject than the class at her old school. She would fail for certain, without help.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Do you suppose you might assist me, in math?" Sarah asked the girl with sandy-colored hair. Kelli, that was her name. Right.

"Eh?!" The girl exclaimed. "I'm terrible at mathematics, too!"

They laughed together for a moment. Sarah took this chance to slip into the chair across from Kelli at the lunch table. Nobody protested, so she interpreted this as a victory.

"I only need a little bit of prompting," Sarah insisted.

"And I'm the only person you know?" Kelli answered, humorously, not fooled by Sarah's performance. "It's okay. If we work through the homework together , then we'll both improve."

That was how they found themselves working side by side in the library, after school ended for the day. Kelli's boyfriend, the rude one, came along for the trip. He didn't do anything other than chat with other guys. They sat a short distance away, and Sarah ignored them, completely focused on the little numbers and signs flitting across her math textbook's page.

Well, at least, she ignored them until she overheard one of the boys talking about _her_. Each of the group was discussing what _he_ would do, if his girlfriend got pregnant. So, the dialogue wasn't about Sarah, per se, but it concerned her. She couldn't help but eavesdrop.

"No, that just makes her a slut," one of the boys declared. "If she's pregnant already, that's a sign – she's an easy lay."

They weren't actually talking about her, were they? Sarah worried. Name-calling or making comments behind her back, those were still insults. Glancing over the desk, she saw Kelli wasn't listening to the others.

"I'd break up with her, if my girl told me that," the next guy announced.

"Better to beat the baby out of her," mentioned the third boy, with a snicker. "Then, you don't have to pay for the stupid kid."

"Oh seriously?" Kelli's boyfriend sounded surprised. "That wouldn't happen. Girls don't want to ruin their lives with a baby, either. Just tell her to get an abortion."

Slamming down her pencil, Sarah drew a breath, ready to yell at the idiots having this discussion. How could they be so callous, so rude? Even if they weren't talking about her, the things they said were awful.

From across the desk, Kelli poked her with the edge of her notebook. "Don't! Just ignore 'em," the girl advised.

Evidently, the sandy-haired girl had been listening to her boyfriend too. "How can you just ignore that?"

"Well, duh." Kelli rolled her eyes. "Of course, they think it."

"What?" The casual acceptance from this girl of whatever her boyfriend said, it unnerved Sarah.

"Having a baby this young is very immature and foolish. You can't even take care of _yourself_ without help. No job. Can't drive. Need to finish school," Kelli shrugged as if it was all obvious.

Appalled, Sarah wanted to yell, but the tone of voice this girl had used was positive and friendly – as if she wasn't trying to sound insulting. Also, it was hard to dispute facts. Kelli was right, about the last few things. She wasn't legally allowed to drive or work, at this age. So, it would be a burden to have a baby. She simply hadn't imagined that the burden might fall onto anyone else's shoulders. But anyone who gave her a ride or loaned her money, in the end, that person was carrying part of the burden. So . . .

"You'll either live with your family, or the government will need to help you with finances," Kelli continued. "Although, it isn't like any of THESE people are taxpayers yet." Gesturing with her hand at the boys, Kelli displayed that she was annoyed with them also. "So, who are they to complain?"

"What you're saying is," Sarah said, a trace of anger showing in her voice, "I should have been more mature, and not gotten . . . I'm only twelve weeks along, you know! There's still time for an abortion."

"Hey!" the other girl protested, "I didn't say it like that. Sheesh."

"Well, you certainly said enough!"

Now, Kelli seemed upset too. "Look around here," she waved her hand, once more, "No one likes you. Appreciate the one friend you might have." Then, stacking her math book and papers, the sandy-haired girl stormed off. Sarah bit her lips, forcing herself not to answer. Arguing with Kelli was the wrong person. It was that group of boys which originally offended her.

With a sigh, Sarah decided to finish her homework in the library, before going home. It was less . . . distracting here. Sometimes, being alone could be useful! She would simply avoid thinking about what other people said, behind her back. If she didn't admit it was happening, then it . . . would bother her just as much. Argh!

Maybe Jeremy had the same sort of thoughts, as these silly boys? The first one said that any pregnant teen girl must be an easy lay. Was that why her mother's boyfriend kept saying strange things and why he'd offered a _massage_, of all things, that morning?

Surely not. Jeremy seemed creepy, but he was hopefully trying to be kind. Typically, teens were more cruel than adults. She would find a way to gently broach the topic with her mother and see what kind of response Linda gave.


End file.
